


Hooked

by cloudsNcoffee



Series: Why Don't We [5]
Category: Why Don't We (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Boyband, Collage, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Football | Soccer, Higher Education, Love, Misunderstandings, Multi, Roommates, Singing, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsNcoffee/pseuds/cloudsNcoffee
Summary: Zach: doesn't deserve his reputation, except in all the ways he does.Harper: just wants to survive the summer in one piece, that includes her heart.Or: What happens when the first person to see through everything, is completely, utterly, offsides.





	1. Street-Fighter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> While this was written with the public persona of the band and their team in mind, the following work is fiction.  
> I don't know them, own them, or claim to have any insight into their real lives.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta-ed, please be kind.
> 
>  
> 
> Caution: This story acknowledges the existence of sex, between consenting adults. It's not explicit.

Zach.

It’s not my iPad that makes the worst noise, when she upends my bag over the balcony, or my sunglasses, which would have been my second guess, if I had been forced to make one. Instead, it’s the awful crash of my boots slamming into the concrete that makes me flinch.  
“Come on, babe. I swear, it didn’t mean anything,” I try to reason with her.  
“That’s your whole problem, Zach,” She throws the bag down for good measure, before stalking towards me, “Nothing means anything to you!”  
I hold my palms up, “Maya, babe, just listen,”  
“Get. Out,” She cuts me off, and there might be actual steam coming out of her ears.  
“Babe,” I start to reach for her.  
“Out!” She screams loud enough I worry somebody will call the cops, so I do as commanded, and get the hell out of dodge.

I’m half-naked, missing both a shirt and shoes, stuffing my scuffed belongings up off the parking lot back into my duffle when I realize I left my phone upstairs. There’s no universe in which that girl is going to buzz me back in, and I’m left shaking my head at the sheer absurdity of my circumstances when the sky that’s been threatening to pour rain for hours suddenly opens.  
I’m soaked to the bone in seconds, leaving me with only one option.  
I throw my head back and laugh.

 

It takes me six hours to get on a plane, after haling a cab to the airport, talking my way into a first-class ticket home, and then sitting in the corner of the lounge, trying to make myself invisible.  
I board last, reluctantly leaving the security of the lounge to make my way to my seat with my hat pulled down as low as I can get it. It’s been years since I’ve flown commercial alone, and the band’s managers have seared it into my brain exactly why that is. Visions of being pulled apart and shredded by vicious fans make my shoulders hunch uncomfortably.  
There’s a girl, younger than me but not by much, in the window seat when I arrive at my row, and I nearly march back off the plane.  
I love our fans. They’re the best, smartest, most beautiful, people in the world, and I absolutely do not want to sit next to one for the next five hours. Not today.  
The girl startles, when I toss my bag into the overhead bin, and glances over at me, but not with any recognition in her eyes. In fact, she almost looks annoyed.  
She keeps her headphones in, and immediately turns back to whatever she’s doing on her phone.  
The odds of her not knowing who I am are minuscule. It’s not an ego thing either, my face has been all over the tabloids since I was sixteen, there’s almost no chance she hasn’t heard of me. I decide not going to push my luck any further today, if she doesn’t want to talk, I’ll take that for the small miracle it is. I quietly tuck myself down in the seat beside her, careful not to dislocate her things, then close my eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief.  
I open my eyes, when the pilot tells the flight attendants to prepare for takeoff. This announcement gets window-seat girl’s attention too, and she swaps out her phone for the inflight safety brochure.  
She absolutely white-knuckles it, and I can’t help feeling bad for her.  
“Nervous flier?” I catch her eyes.  
“Not,” She grimaces, “Not usually? I just… have a lot going on.”  
I nod, and feel the plane speed up, “One of my best-friends’ girlfriend has this horrible fear of heights. When she flies, she’s worse than a cat in a box.”  
“She runs around scratching everything?”  
“No,” I laugh, running a hand through my hair, as the plane’s wheels take off the ground, “But one time, she squeezed my arm so hard when her boyfriend went to the bathroom during turbulence I had fingernail marks for a week.”  
“How does she get through it then, if it scares her so much?”  
The plane levels out, “Distraction. She says it’s better if someone keeps her talking.”  
She giggles, amused, and I notice a few things at once.  
She’s kinda stunning, big blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, and freckles.  
She is covered, just littered, in bruises.  
And she’s got lime green laces in her Yeezys.  
“Are those triple whites? With green laces?”  
Her mouth quirks up in a cute half-smile, “Um, yes. It’s a long story.”  
“We’ve got time,” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, “Unless, y’know, you’d rather finish reading the emergency manual.”  
Her cheeks turn pink, like she’d forgotten her death grip on it, and she hastily shoves the pamphlet into the seatback pocket, “When I was younger, the team I played on had green jerseys.”  
“Jerseys for what?” I slouch down in my seat.  
“Soccer,” She mimics me, pulling her knees up to her chest, the heels of her sneakers perched on the edge of her seat.  
“No way.”  
“Ah, yes way?” She shrugs, “I’ve played since I was three.”  
“No,” I wasn’t doubting that she plays, “It’s just, I played soccer too, up until High School.”  
“Really?” Her eyes light up, “Which position?”  
“Midfielder,” It’s been so long, I feel strangely wistful about it. Most of the time, I don’t romanticize the past because I remember how miserable freshman year was before I joined the band. Soccer was still great though, “What do you play?”  
“Forward,” She answers.  
“Cool. And you had green jerseys?”  
“Right, my entire childhood, through most of elementary school,” She loops a finger in her shoelace, “Then when I was nine, I made the travel league,”  
“And they assigned you different color?” I put the pieces together.  
She nods, “But by then, the damage was done.”  
“You were already attached to the green.”  
“It’s my lucky color,” She defends, her eyes smiling, “I was devastated, not an understatement. I cried for days, and told everyone I couldn’t play if I couldn’t wear green. My parents were already up to here,” She gestures above her head, “with soccer, so they were more than willing to call it off, but my sister,” Her face softens, “she wouldn’t hear it. She went out, bought a bunch of shoelaces, and then dyed them my favorite lime green. Her hands were green for weeks, and I haven’t worn laces in another color since.”  
“That’s pretty cute,” I smirk, “I’m guessing soccer is responsible for…” I gesture towards the molten purple splotch the size of a baseball on her shin.  
“I’m rough on stuff,” She bites her lip.  
“There’s I play sports rough on stuff, then there’s MMA rough on stuff, and I hate to break it to you, but you look like the later.”  
She looks up at the ceiling, “None of these are that bad. I just bruise easy.”  
“Alright, Street-Fighter,” I tip my head towards her.  
She laughs, “Harper.”  
“Zach,” I like her name. Harper suits her, “It’s very nice to meet you.”  
It honestly is. We talk the entire flight, which I’ve never done before.  
She tells me about her family (how she’s the youngest, and I manage to talk in circles explaining that I’m the oldest of my siblings, but the baby in my ‘friend group’), we discuss soccer (her bizarre and fascinating devotion to a third tier English football team, and my seasonal loyalty to Arsenal), and we debate the best breed of dog (before settling on whatever the softest one you can rescue from a shelter is.)  
Harper is both playful and stubborn, and such an open book that in five hours, I feel like I know her, and it’s endearing.  
It doesn’t hurt either, that she’s got a smile that does things to me.

I manage to forget my impending doom when I’m talking to her, but when the plane touches down, my weariness comes back.  
The Los Angeles Airport is the worst in the world for trying to escape unnoticed.  
There’s paparazzi who make their living camped out inside the arrivals area and after what happened with Maya, because she’s a drama queen and must have talked by now, there’s no doubt they’ll be looking for me.  
It’s the last thing I want to deal with, but I’ve got no choice.

Harper’s already on the phone, when we’re allowed off the plane, and I can admit to myself that it’s probably for the best if I just disappear, because she’s too good to get caught with me, no matter how much I like her. I steel myself, then take off in the opposite direction to face the disaster that leaving is going to be.

By the time I pull myself out of a taxi and key in the code to the gate, the last forty-eight hours have fully caught up with me. I feel like a deadman walking. I have plans to crawl in my bed, and hopefully, stay there until the inventible press nightmare blows over.  
I’ve lived with Jonah and his girlfriend, our band’s choreographer, Eli, for years.  
It was almost an accident, that I ended up moving in.  
When the band formed, all five of us lived together. For a while, we even shared bedrooms, me and Daniel and Jonah in the small room, Corbyn and Jack in the big room of our manager’s house for months.  
After we started sell records and selling out tours, we rented a place with enough bedrooms for each of us to have their own. As the other guys started locking down girlfriends, however, it became pretty impractical to pay for that place, when they were never home.  
I’d been occasionally crashing with Jonah and Eli at that point, but when I was suddenly alone all the time in that huge house, I just sort of moved in with them, spending nights in their spare room, or when her business partner was in town, sleeping on their sofa.  
Then, two years ago, after I turned eighteen, Jonah and I converted the attic above their garage into an apartment. It’s nothing fancy, two bedrooms, a mini kitchen, a bathroom containing what Eli calls a rain-shower but is actually heaven, and a living room with a massive television. It has a separate entrance, but I don’t use it, because there’s a staircase up from the main house’s living area too.  
I’d been telling them that I’d move out for a year by the time we started construction, but they never asked me to. The band’s rarely in one place longer than a couple weeks anyway, because we spent more time on the road then at home, so it just hasn’t made sense for me to leave.  
Plus, I don’t like being on my own, and love their house.  
I still occasionally meet with a realtor though. I vaguely remember making an appointment with one next week, which I’ll have to check after I buy a new phone, but forget why, until I let myself in the front door, and hear an unexpected voice talking with Eli in the kitchen.  
Eli told me, way back in February, that her college ex-boyfriend’s sister (not as awkward as it sound, since despite Jonah’s general dislike of the guy, Eli’s still close with him) would be staying with us for the summer.

I know that voice.  
Alarm bells go off in my head.  
I know that voice, because I just spent five hours listening to her, then ran away.  
My feet carry me to the kitchen without any input from my brain, and Jonah spots me first, “Zach?” He looks me over, “I thought you were with Maya in Florida until Tuesday? Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.”  
“Things went,” I steadily don’t look at Harper, and aim for diplomatic, “Things went south, with Maya. I would’ve called, but ah,” I scratch my ear, “My phone’s lost, and the iPad’s busted.”  
“Z,” Jonah shakes his head, “This can’t keep happening.”  
Yeah.  
He’s not wrong.  
It’s frustrating, and embarrassing, that this isn’t the first time a girl’s trashed my stuff. It’s not even the first time this year.  
I don’t know what’s worse; the disappointment on his face, the concern of Eli’s, or when I finally brave a glance at Harper, the blank look in her eyes.  
“Let’s talk later,” Eli decides, nudging Harper, “I don’t know that you’ve met Zach, have you?”  
Harper, correctly, but for all the wrong reasons, interprets the panic on my face, “Um, no. Don’t think so,” She extends her hand to me, “Hi, I’m Harper Davis.”  
“Zach Herron,” I shake her hand.  
She pulls back quickly, closing her eyes to tell me, a little despondently, “Yeah, I know.”

 

 

 

_Harper._

_Hot plane guy is Zach Herron._  
_Hot, sweet, funny, plane guy is standing beside my sister, not by blood but in all the ways that count, in her kitchen and apparently lives in her garage and makes puppy dog eyes at her when she sends him away to go shower, like her glare couldn’t cut through a person._  
_Hot plane guy is going to be sleeping in the bedroom across from me all summer, and vanished on me at the airport._  
_I don’t hyperventilate, but it’s a near thing._

_My knowledge of Jonah’s band was always limited, some because Eli’s the most protective person on the planet and she didn’t want to expose me to the mayhem that comes from a super popular boyband, and some because I only begrudgingly liked Jonah and was still bitter about her moving here._

_I saw Why Don’t We once, a couple of years ago. I was fifteen and spent most of the concert elbowing my oldest brother, Colton, because he finds it funny to get under Jonah’s skin, so he spent the entire show staring unblinkingly at him._  
_Zach was maybe eighteen then, and I might have thought he was cute._  
_He’s not cute anymore._  
_He’s filled out, grown a few inches, and became hotter than the surface of the sun attractive, and way too good-looking for his own good, which I know because I have eyes and because every tabloid in the country covers his various escapades with Victoria’s Secret models, actresses, and the occasional instagram influencer._

 _Whatever happened on that plane, whatever tiny heartbreak I felt turning around in the airport to find him gone, was a fluke. He didn’t ask for my number, and now we’re roommates, so all of those feelings need to go in a box and stay there._  
_I’m going to forget it, and stay away from him._  
_Just as soon as I can drag my eyes away from the flex of his back as he walks away._

_Eli coughs, a delicate command to come back to reality, “Let’s get you unpacked,” She slips around me, and lifts up my suitcase, “Honestly, Hops, what did you bring with you? The Nike store?”_  
_I stick my tongue out at her, “I wanted to be prepared.”_  
_“Thank goodness for that,” She dimples over her shoulder, hauling my bag up the stairs, “Who knows when USC will suffer a shortage of funding for their gym equipment, and you’ll be forced to weight train with your luggage.”_  
_“It’s twelve pairs of cleats,” I roll my eyes, but she got what she wanted, because now I’m smiling._  
_Eli carries my suitcase into through the open bedroom door then hefts it up onto the bed, because she’ll tease me for overpacking but we both know she’s supernaturally strong for being a string-bean._

 _I wanted to be her, when I was little. Eli was just so talented and smart, on top of being nice to me and having my big brother wrapped around her finger. It would have been crazy not to idolize her. I think I’d have turned out a lot more like her, if I hadn’t been born terrible at the things she excels in._  
_We’re more different than alike now, but I still adore her._

 _“Do you feel ready for Monday?” She unzips my bag and pulls the empty dresser drawers open._  
_“I suppose?” My first practice with a collegiate team, with my team, has always been the dream, but now I have to do it._  
_Eli scrunches her nose, her version of pulling a face._  
_“I’m confident,” I mumble, tossing myself down on the bed next to my suitcase, “It’s just… What if I’m not on their level?” What if I picked this school, moved thousands of miles away to play here, and find out I’m not good enough? What if I don’t like them, or worse, if they hate me?_  
_Eli drops a stack of hangers from the closet on top of me, “Soccer is your gift, Hopsy,” her nickname for me is exactly as ridiculous as the story behind it, but I can’t imagine her calling me anything else, “USC scored massively when you signed for them, and they know it. Also, you love Coach K.”_  
_“He is a god among mortals,” I sigh, reaching for my clothes than need to hang in the closet to put them on hangers. Coach K has coached at Nationals camp, the World Cup, and an Olympics. I would have gone to Ohio for that man, and the only thing in Ohio is corn._  
_“Then you have nothing to be nervous about,” Eli takes a handful of my shirts and drops them in a drawer, “The best coach with the best player,” She nudges it closed with her hip, “You can’t lose.”_  
_I groan, “You have to say that.”_  
_“Why?”_  
_“Because you love me, and wrote that in glitter on too many signs to take it back now.”_  
_“I could quote ESPN,” She grins._  
_“Please, don’t,” I beg. If I had known exactly how that feature would read, like I’m some kind of prodigy, I wouldn't have agreed to it._  
_“Because, I have a few copies in the office,” Her smile grows._  
_“You do not.”_  
_“She does,” Jonah appears in the doorway, “She bought every copy we saw.”_  
_I bury my face in the sweatshirt I’m holding._  
_“Colt has it framed,” There’s audible glee in Eli’s voice._  
_“He does not,” I pull my head up._  
_Her smile doesn’t change._  
_“Oh, my god. He does,” They are the worst, “I can’t believe you guys.”_  
_Jonah laughs, “So, how do you feel about that bowl place you like for dinner?” He looks at Eli, “Think you could stomach it?”_  
_“You got a tummy bug, E?” Zach interrupts from the hall._  
_She’s got a notoriously awful appetite and gets food poising more than anyone I’ve ever known. It’s not weird that he knows that, but I wasn’t anticipating the real concern in his voice._  
_“I’m fine,” Eli answers as Zach steps into view, wearing only a towel._  
_Which should be illegal. Very, very illegal._  
_“Right, then,” Jonah moves to manhandle Zach back into the hallway, my eyes still glued to his abs, “Go put some pants on, and you can drive.”_

 _I guess avoiding Zach is going to be harder than I thought, and so is getting the image of him in a towel out of my head. Dammit_ _._

_I'm gonna need a new strategy._

 

 


	2. Bruiser

_Harper._

_I don’t actually have time to come up with a new strategy, because Eli keeps me busy and away from Zach, every waking second on Sunday. She drags me to her morning ballet class (where the average age of her students is seven, so I’m only the worst by a small margin), to lunch with a different bandmate’s fiancée, Christina, who calls me ‘the cutest thing’ before asking where I get my eyebrows done and if I’ve considered dyeing my eyelashes, then we walk my entire campus exploring so I’m familiar before practices start._  
_By the time my head hits the pillow, I haven’t had time to think about Zach._

 _On Monday morning, Eli calls an Uber to take me to practice, because many brave souls have tired and failed to teach her to drive, and I’m way too nervous to operate a vehicle today._  
_Inside, Eli turns towards me, as much as she can while buckled in her seat, “Are we going to talk about it?”_  
_I make my best clueless face, “Talk about what?”_  
_“Uh-huh,” She sees right through me, “So you didn’t decide we had to leave fifteen minutes early when Zach came downstairs in his pajamas?”_  
_“Those hardly counts at pajamas,” I hiss. Sweatpants so low they're two seconds from falling off aren’t pajamas._  
_Eli looks like she’s trying to keep from laughing, “Both Colt and Alden sleep in less.”_  
_“But we have the same DNA,” I counter._  
_“I’ll talk to him about it,” She offers, and I shake my head._  
_“Don’t do that,” I dig around in my bag, looking for the second half of my breakfast. I’ll get over it, “It’s fine, Eli, really.”_  
_I think she might protest, but I start peeling my orange, and her face loses its color._  
_I shove the fruit back in my bag, and watch her take shallow breaths in through her mouth._  
_“How long has this been going on?” I’ve been here two days, and seen her eat like six bites of food. It’s weird, even for her._  
_Eli pins me with her eyes, her color coming back, “You can’t tell your brother, or Jonah,” She fidgets with the two gold bands permanently on her wrist, “A few months.”_  
_“A few months,” I screech. She has lost her mind, “Tell me you’re seeing a doctor.”_  
_“Calm down,” She orders, “I’m seeing someone when I get back from New York.”_  
_“That’s next week,” I protest. Eli works back and forth between New York City and Los Angeles where the company she owns with her best friend, Milo, has dance studios, but this doesn’t seem like a thing she should ignore, “You have to eat.”_  
_“Let me worry about me, Hops,” She pulls at the braid she put in my hair last night, “and you worry about you, since we’re here.”_  
_I’d like to fake over-concerned and not get out of the car, but she’d never let that happen, “I’ll see you at home?” I pull my bag over my shoulder and open the door._  
_“Break a leg,” Eli waves me off, “Make good choices!”_  
_I’d laugh at her, if I didn’t suddenly feel like I’m the one about to throw up._

  
_I have one foot on the field when someone starts screaming._  
_“HD!” The girl yelling and careening towards me is so unexpected and welcome I could weep._  
_“Ruby,” Her name is knocked out of me when she lifts me right off the ground, my ten pound gym bag included, “What are you doing here?”_  
_“Playing, obviously,” She grins, “I transferred two weeks ago.”_  
_I shove her shoulder, “You could have told me.”_  
_“And miss the look on your face?” Ruby laughs._  
_“You don’t know how happy I am to see you,” I confess._  
_“Not as happy as I am to see you. Finally, there’s someone who knows how to score around here,” She calls that last part out to someone other than me._  
_A girl running laps around the field spins to run backwards, “Maybe if you could keep the ball out of the backfield I could!”_  
_“Ladies!” Someone with a clipboard by the stands yells out, “Save the trash talk for opposing teams, please!”_  
_None of it is said with any heat, and it feels like every other team I’ve ever been on._  
_“Come on,” Ruby hauls me out into the field, “You better meet the captains before they try to murder us.”_

_She’s right, it’s attempted death by running all morning. There’s laps until a sophomore cries, dribbling drills until I can’t see straight, and no one’s been anywhere near a goal by the time we break for lunch._

_Ruby drags me to the center of the table, and I let her without protest because I think my legs may have melted into jello._  
_She’s always been the social butterfly I’ve never managed to be. Ruby’s a loud mouth, brutal on defense, and was my roommate for three years during middle school soccer camp. During which she paraded me around like my accomplishments were her trophies while forcing me to interact with the cool girls who already  liked her, and we’ve been friends ever since._  
_I’m downing my water when a senior girl asks, “So, where are you living, Harper?”_  
_“Good question,” Ruby glares at me, “They’ve got me boarding with a professor. How’d you get out of that?”_  
_“I thought all the freshmen had to board until the dorms open?” Another new girl, Kennedy, asks._  
_“Not if you have family here,” I shrug._  
_“Your family lives in Florida,” Ruby raises an eyebrow._  
_I tighten the lid back on my water bottle, “My sister lives here.”_  
_It’s the easiest explanation, with the whole team watching, but Ruby won’t let it go, “You only have brothers.”_  
_I unwrap my sandwich, “Do you remember Colt’s girlfriend?”_  
_“Toothpick blondie who always came to pick you up at camp?”_  
_“Eli,” I nod, “She has a house in the hills.”_  
_“Oh, sick,” Ruby rubs her hands together, and I can envision the long list of things she's planning, which aren’t going to happen, “Why didn’t you just say you were living with him?”_  
_“Because I’m not. They broke up, forever ago,” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation while the girls across from us are hanging on every word, “It’s a long story. How’s your host family?”_  
_“They’re fine,” She sighs, “But the rules are crazy. You’ll have to have us over to your place, so we can actually have fun.”_  
_Yeah, no._  
_No one from the team is getting past the front gate to the house two fifths of Why Don’t We live in and the rest of the band has a habit of dropping into unannounced. Eli’s already warned me not to be alarmed if I wake up to find any of them sleeping in the living room or swimming in the pool._  
_Inviting the team over would be a fiasco._  
_I let Ruby think it might happen, though, and she moves off the subject of my living situation, into the topic of the best places to sneak into close to campus._  
_She is going to be wild without constant supervision, and I am still so happy she’s here._

 _I’m slightly less happy Ruby’s in California after we’ve scrimmaged on opposite teams and she got so sick of my scoring she tripped me. It was funny when it happened, because it’s such a Ruby move, and hysterical watching her fall all over herself apologizing and trying to fix the scrapes on my arm, but it’s less amusing now when it's still stinging as I let myself into Eli’s house._  
_Eli hears me come in, and calls, "Hey Hopsy, how was practice?" from her place balanced with one knee up on her kitchen island reaching for something in the cupboard, entire contents of her fridge on her countertops, and a strikingly beautiful girl sipping coconut water next to her._  
_“It was practice, so, I guess, successful.” I drop my bag on the stairs, “Do you remember Ruby?”_  
_“From Duke?” Eli asks._  
_“Yup,” I sit down to untie my shoes, “She’s at USC now.”_  
_“That’s fantastic, you’ve already got a friend,” Eli jumps back down, a box of fancy salt in her hand._  
_I stick my tongue out, “You say that like I’m a difficult child. I've made plenty of friends.”_  
_Eli laughs, addressing the model in her kitchen, “Angelina, Harper. Harper, Angelina.”_  
_“Angi,” She smiles, “Elijah talks about you all the time. I’d hug you, but she pushed me through her modern class, and,” she gestures towards her pretty matching leggings and tank top, “I’m a mess.”_  
_“Probably not worse than I am,” I lift up my elbow, and Angi hisses in sympathy._  
_Eli glances over scowling, at the scrape, not me, “I’ll find you something to put on that, but go clean up first. It’ll be a while before the guys are back for dinner.”_  
_“Where are they anyway?” It’s strange to live with people who are busier than I am. Eli mentioned they had six meetings yesterday, and that was the weekend. I have no idea how she keeps track._  
_There’s a beat of silence, then Angi answers, “Jonah drove my boyfriend, Daniel, and Zach to a meeting.”_  
_“Okay?” I drawl, not exactly understanding why she sounds so serious._  
_“Zach might not be in the best mood, when they come home," Eli says gently, "His girlfriend gave a nasty interview, which reflects poorly on the band, and he’s being read the riot act for it.”_  
_“His ex-girlfriend,” Angi corrects, “They’re finished now.”_  
_“Small miracles,” Eli decides, which tells me all I need to know._  
_“Is Zach...” He might have embarrassed me, but no one deserves that, so I have to ask, “Is he okay?”_  
_“He takes it hard,” Eli pours something into a bowl, “but he’ll be alright,” She shoos me off, “Now, go bathe. You’re getting blood on my floors.”_  
_“It’s hours old,” I protest, even as I climb the stairs, “And I’m only listening because this shower is incredible.”_

 

 

Zach.

The ride back home from meeting with management is tense. Jonah and Daniel accompanied me, since Corbyn and Jack had other plans, and now the three of us are silent in Jonah’s car.

“I’m having a hard time understanding how you keep meeting these girls,” Daniel doesn’t look at me.

The retort is on my tongue, ‘I mean, you’re there when I meet girls, y’know, every night at meet and greets,’ but I swallow it down. It doesn’t seem funny after that guy from the record label dumped a couple dozen magazines claiming to contain intimate details about my relationships on a table in front of us, and threatened to have me replaced by someone who knows who to quote, ‘keep it in his pants’, if my face ends up on at the top of TMZ of again.

“I don’t know, I just,” I lean forward until my forehead comes in contact with the center console, “It’s, like, nobody’s just interested in me, like, personally. They just want everything else, or something from me.”  
“We’ve been famous your entire adult life,” Jonah changes gears, sighing, “You were so young, when we got signed.”  
“It’s cool,” I shrug, shoving down those feelings, focusing on the good, “That’s what I wanted. We’ve got the new album, and the tour after that. The band’s success comes first.”  
“That’s not the point, Zach,” Jonah punches in the code at our gate, “Fame’s fine, and necessary, so we can do this for a living, but,” He parks in the garage, and turns around to look at me, “It doesn’t matter how happy work makes you, if work is all you have.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Daniel messes up my hair when we get out of the car, and I shuffle inside to find Eli. She has no problem telling me when I make a mistake, but she’s always got my back.  
The kitchen smells amazing when fall into her embrace, “Of all the things I love about you,” I sigh, “Maybe the second or third thing, is how you turn my bad days, into bad days with lasagna,” I’m aware I moan a bit around the word, but Eli’s lasagna is life-changing.  
“It’ll blow over,” She rubs my back.  
“It always does,” Jonah drops the disappointed dad act to pull me off his girlfriend, “We didn’t like her anyway.”  
“Sorry.”  
“Yeah, she kind of sucked,” Daniel’s girlfriend, Angi, comments.  
I glance into the living room, where Angi’s in a chair that Daniel’s sat on the arm of, and Harper’s laying on the floor, holding a bag of frozen vegetables to her elbow for some reason and studying me.  
“I’m sorry,” I try again, generally, to everyone.  
Daniel shrugs, “Eh, it’s not exactly your fault, this time.”  
“You had an expectation of privacy,” Eli adds.  
“Maya can go to hell for doing this to you,” Angi decides, “I’d like ten minutes with her.”  
Daniel smirks, “To chuck a blowdryer at her head?”  
It’s some kind of inside joke, that makes Angi laugh and concede, “Maybe,” before Eli calls us to the table for dinner.

We don’t discuss Maya’s interview, my screwups, or the agonizing management meeting, during dinner. It’s kinda weird, between Harper and I, but not enough for anyone else to notice. I wanted to explain, to talk to her, but there hasn’t been time, and by now she doesn’t need me to spell it out anyway.  
It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does, the way she fits in here. The band and the people closest to us are family, and the circle only got tighter as we got bigger, so new people can’t break through. I've never brought anyone home because of it.  
Harper, though, she slots in seamlessly, making the girls laugh with a story from her practice which is hilarious despite ending with the injury to her elbow, and questioning Daniel’s judgment when he goes for his third piece of lasagna, not because she doesn’t think he could eat it but because she wants to. She teases Jonah when he complains about his youngest sister’s new boyfriend, and as long as she isn’t looking at me, she’s herself again, like she was on the plane. It's good, even if I don't add much to the conversation, because my head's still at that meeting, staring at all those headlines.

When the food’s gone, Daniel and Angi have somewhere to be, and Eli talks Jonah into going for a run, which leaves me and Harper volunteering to do the dishes. I take up rinsing, and she loads the dishwasher the same insane way Eli’s trained me to. Dishes get sorted by size, forks, knives and spoons are separated by utensil type, and only glasses go in the top rack.  
For two people would couldn’t stop talking two days ago, we’ve got nothing to say now.  
Harper sets the last cup inside, closes the door, and turns it on, then stares at me.  
I wish I knew what to say.  
“How do you feel about Hitchcock?” She bites her lip.  
“Ah,” That wasn’t the question I was expecting, “Good? I mean, I like scary movies.”  
“Good,” She nods, then starts rummaging through the kitchen, checking all the drawers, until she finds the one hiding candy beside the fridge. I don’t know how she knew that would be there, because I lived here for months before I found it, but she pulls out two bags, looking at me, “Reese’s or Skittles?”  
“Reese’s,” I narrow my eyes. This seems like a trap.  
Harper nicks the Reese’s and leaves the Skittles before jogging upstairs. At the top, she calls, “Coming?”  
I’m very confused, but I follow her upstairs anyway.  
She directs me to the sofa, flings the candy at me, then empties the hall closet of blankets. By the time she starts the movie, we haven’t talked about what happened with Maya, what happened with us, or what we’re doing now, but she’s essentially built a blanket fort and wedged her way into almost cuddling me, her head resting on my shoulder and her legs along the back of the couch.

It’s, actually, really nice.  
I focus on the movie, until I realize my shirt is damp. She must have showered after she got home from practice.  
I lift my shoulder once, moving her head, whispering, “Your hair’s still soaking wet. Did you forget to dry it?”  
She sits up, adorably peeved with this distraction from the movie, “I dried it, it just stays wet for hours.”  
I grimace, because wet hair is annoying.  
Harper laughs, “Do you want me to move?”  
“No,” I answer too quickly, and tug her back down, “It’s fine.”  
She settles back against me more firmly, “Then watch the film.”

 

When the movie is over, we’ve eaten an entire bag of Reese’s, my shirt has a strawberry scented wet patch, and everything that sucked about today feels far away. Harper stands up to toss the trash, then shoves the blankets back on their shelves.  
“Okay,” She doesn’t look at me, “Goodnight, Zach.”  
She’s at her door before I can respond, “Hey, Bruiser?”  
“Yeah?” Harper turns around.  
“Thanks,” I tell her and mean it.  
She shrugs, “My brother did a lot of heavy-lifting, raising me, and we were never great at feelings, but we’d do this,” She tugs on her sleeve, “And it would help.”  
“Thank you,” It’s not enough, but Harper nods.  
“Goodnight, Zach.”  
“G’night,” She shuts her door before I can say it, and I’m staring where she was standing.  
Today was a bad day, until she gave me this.  
Today was a bad day, caused by my selfish actions, until she gave me this, completely unselfishly.  
I was right, in the airport, she’s way too good for me.

 

 


	3. Slugger

Zach.

I’m basically grounded for the next week.  
I spend my time moping in my room, moping with Jonah after Eli leaves for New York, and moping in the studio trying to make this into lyrics and failing spectacularly.  
I can admit it’s pathetic Sunday after I subject myself to a run with Jonah, which leaves me a panting sweaty mess in the kitchen, just to alleviate the boredom.

Harper’s a distraction, but she’s almost never home. I didn’t realize college soccer would be that much of a time commitment. I overheard Eli boasting to Daniel that Harper’s team is in the top ten, and she’ll be playing in the next Olympics. After witnessing how much Harper works at it, I’m starting to think it was only partly nepotism influencing Eli’s opinion. No one could practice as much as she does and not be incredible at it. I want to buy a net and get her to play me one on one in the backyard, but I haven’t worked out how to make that happen yet.

That’s what I’m thinking about, trying to catch my breath, when Harper comes downstairs. She stomps around setting water on the stove to simmer, then pours granola into a mug, without milk, and eats it with a spoon.  
I’ve learned this is Harper’s routine, crunching on her breakfast absentmindedly every morning while she waits for her tea to steep. That it’s two in the afternoon, and I’m not sure what time she went to sleep, doesn’t seem to have an affect on this.  
I've also figured out she’s the type of person who shouldn’t be spoken to until caffeinated. On her third morning here, I tried to ask her a question and she ignored me in favor of glaring somewhere just to the left of my head until I moved on to bugging Eli. Harper is seriously not a morning person.   
I’m watching her mix chai like a scientist, and trying to stay out of her way, when Jonah comes back inside. He was halfway through a gatorade when his phone started blaring, and he had stepped outside to answer it.  
Now, he looks like he’s seen a ghost.  
“You cool, bro?” I push his drink across the counter to him.  
Jonah doesn’t respond.  
“Is Eli’s plane okay?” Harper sounds slightly panicked. The possibility of that hadn’t even crossed my mind.  
“Eli’s fine,” Jonah rushes out, “Her flight’s safe in the air. She’ll be home in a couple hours,” He reassures.  
Harper and I both relax, “Then, why are you losing it?”  
Jonah’s nearly shaking. He rubs at his forehead, mumbling something that sounds a lot like, “Eli’s pregnant.”  
“Say that again,” I demand.  
“Milo thinks Eli’s pregnant,” Jonah meets my eyes.  
“Holy shit.”  
“He told me I need to go buy her a test.”  
“Holy shit.”  
Harper hums, “Well, that makes sense.”  
I make a sound in the back of my throat. It doesn’t make sense, because it’s not like Eli looks pregnant, Eli perpetually looks like she needs to eat a sandwich.  
“She’s been puking for months,” Harper shrugs, “Either she’s pregnant or dying.”  
Jonah deliberately closes his eyes, then opens them, reaching for his keys.  
I grab them out from under him, “Sorry, bro, but I’m not about to let you drive. I'll take you.”  
“Alright,” He yields, much faster than he usually would, all the fight drained out of him, and we start towards the garage.  
Harper sprints around me, swiping the keys, “Have you lost your minds? Neither one of you is buying a pregnancy test. It’d be all over Twitter in ten minutes,” She shakes her head, “I’m going to buy it, and paying with cash.”  
There’s no arguing with her, and she’s out the door before I can tell her she’s still wearing pink snowman pajama pants and what I’m assuming is one of her brother’s High School lacrosse shirts.  
I mean, she’s adorable, but again; it’s two in the afternoon.

Harper comes home from the drugstore with a bag full of rectangle boxes, admits she bought one of each, and sheepishly gives it to Jonah along with his keys. When she leaves to go to get dressed, I turn baseball on the television on in the living room. Jonah doesn’t even notice though, because he keeps eyeballing that bag as if it contains the secrets of the universe.  
So, because we tell each other everything and I can’t deal with catatonic Jonah alone, I send out the bat signal to the band. Which isn’t as cool as I thought it would be, since none of them seem to understand the urgency. I type a series of increasingly desperate text messages before finally sending five words that get their attention.  
‘eli's pregnant  
…  
probably  
…  
milo thinks’

  
The rest of the band, and all their girlfriends, get to our house in twenty minutes. Jack and his girlfriend, Brooke, stay at Christina and Corbyn’s place whenever they’re in town, because Brooke and Christina shared an apartment in New York for a while before they graduated from college and Corbyn proposed to convince Christina to move here. Jack refuses to buy a house here while Brooke is still working on her masters in New York and he's always flying there to be with her, so the four of them arrive together, windblown and eyes wide in Jack's BMW. Daniel and Angi are right behind them, which is impressive, since they live closer to the beach and had to have broken a million of traffic laws to get here as fast as they did, but I’m not complaining and Jonah is oblivious.  
“Hey, buddy,” Daniel sits down on the sofa closest to Jonah, “how’re you doing?”  
Jonah cuts him a look, and doesn’t say anything.  
“Okay,” Jack nods, “Not great. Got it.”  
“What are the odds Milo’s wrong?” Corbyn has to ask.  
“He’s not wrong,” Jonah’s voice is raw, but certain.  
“Fuck,” Christina sits down.  
“Weren’t you, like, using protection?” Jack studies him.  
“Jack,” I spit his name.  
He looks at me, “It’s a valid question!”  
“One must’ve broke,” Jonah tugs on his hair, “Eli's been," He searches for the right phrase, "off food lately. She’s lost weight, and Milo noticed. He tried to bring her sushi, hoping to make her eat, and instead,” He frowns, “She threw up in the kitchen sink.”  
“Ouch,” I know how obsessed Eli is with her kitchens. She won’t let me spit toothpaste in the kitchen sink here.  
Jonah nods.  
“What’s she going to do?” Angi makes space for herself beside Daniel.  
“I don’t know,” Jonah looks up.  
“Is she going to keep it?” Brooke sets her bag on the floor.  
“I don’t know,” Jonah repeats.  
“You want to,” It occurs to me the moment Daniel says it. He’s right, Jonah isn’t upset because he doesn’t want this, but because he does.  
“I do,” He tips his head back, “I, really, do.”  
“Holy shit,” I say what I’m thinking for the third time this afternoon, and inquiry over, everyone settles in to wait.  
We search for distraction, falling into our usual habits, Brooke spreading her current project out on the kitchen table, Daniel finding a guitar to tune, while Corbyn and I track down the old PlayStation and all the terrible games that go with it. Christina makes a mountain of grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, Harper does laundry, and Angi waters Eli’s plants, trying to do anything to make themselves feel like they’re doing something.

 At some point, people force both Jonah and I to shower, but it’s still been the longest three hours, when Eli finally unlocks the front door and we spring to our feet.  
“Jo?” She wheels her suitcase inside, completely unsuspecting of the ambush waiting for her.  
“Hi?” I join the chorus of too chipper voices welcoming her home.  
Eli freezes, then meets Jonah’s eyes, her face carefully blank, “Milo called you.”  
He holds up the bag, and I can’t read his expression either.  
“I promised him I’d tell you,” Her voice is soft, “I was going to tell you.”  
“I believe you,” Jonah offers.  
They stare at each other.  
“Great,” Christina breaks, shoving Jonah forward, addressing Eli, “Go pee on a stick now.”  
She crinkles her nose up but Christina just smiles back, sweet as can be.  
Eli blinks then strides towards the master bedroom. Jonah moves to follow her, along with the rest of us. “This doesn’t require an audience,” Eli chastises, without turning around, and everyone other than Jonah sits back down robotically.  
The door to their ensuite bathroom closes louder than it ever has before, and no one speaks.

Five minutes later, there’s a thud in their bedroom, followed immediately by several more.  
I’m in the hall before anyone else, but all eight of us crowd together in threshold to their bedroom trying to see what's happening. Jonah continues throwing socks out of his drawer, and Eli makes an inquisitive sound, leaning against the wall holding her arms.  
“Bedside table,” I remind Jonah, “You moved it after I found it in the dresser.”  
He nods, and Harper cuts a look at me, whispering, “Found what?”  
I shake my head. I can’t believe this is what it took for Jonah to finally do this, but I’m not ruining it now.  
Jonah palms the little blue box victoriously, then stalks towards Eli with more confidence and purpose than he’s had since Milo called.  
“Gorgeous,” He starts.  
Her eyes are stuck on what he’s holding, “Jonah.”  
“You told me you wanted my last name on our first date,” He drops to one knee, opening the box.  
Christina gasps, realizing what’s about to happen, and Brooke elbows her.  
“It might not be positive,” Eli whispers.  
“I’ve had the ring for a year,” Jonah laughs at himself, sparing a brief glance our direction, “I told them I was going to marry you at Christmas, four months after we started dating.”  
Eli’s covers her mouth with one hand.  
He grins, stupid and proud, his default expression when looking at her, “And, it’s going to be positive,” He takes her left hand, “I want more with you, Eli. I always want more with you. There’s not enough hours in the day for me to get enough of you, I can never hold you close enough for long enough, I leave every conversation with you only wanting more. I want everything with you, because you’re everything to me.”  
Jonah takes the ring out, dropping the box, “Marry me, Gorgeous, because you’re everything to me, and calling you my wife still won’t be enough,” He slips the ring on her finger, “But it seems like a pretty good start.”  
“Yes,” Eli nods, her eyes wet and dimples out in full force, “Yes.”  
Jonah stands, cups her face in his hands, and kisses her.  
Again, and again, and again.

 

Until I barrel into them, and causing an avalanche of hugging and crying and most of the guys plus Angi punching me for knowing about the ring and not telling them, before Jack declares, “Not to, like, wreck the moment or anything, but I’ve spent all day waiting for you to take that thing. Think we could check it now?” completely wrecking the moment, and cracking the whole room up.

 

 

 

 

_Harper._

_“Do you want to?” Eli finds Jonah's eyes, tilting her head towards their bathroom, and the room which was elated thirty seconds ago, feels suddenly anxious and vulnerable again._  
_Jonah nods, reaching out to gently tuck her hair behind her ear, then strides towards their bathroom alone._  
_Eli makes it through two of his steps before she takes off after him. I knew she couldn’t resist, she’s not a bystander, but I didn’t anticipate the look in her eyes, scared absolutely, but more than anything else, hopeful._

 _My brother used to say the only thing Eli lives for is movement. Ballet, hip-hop, jazz, tap, modern, ballroom, horseback riding, running marathons, it doesn’t matter. The only thing Eli needs to live is to keep moving. It’s her driving force, her reason for being._  
_And that might have been true, when she was with Colton. She lived for her career, her company, her metals and trophies and awards. But it isn’t true anymore._  
_She still wants those things, success and perfection, but they aren’t the only thing she lives for, and haven’t been for a while now, not since she met Jonah._

_It takes that look for me to understand that it’s possible, like Jonah, she could really want this too._

_Zach is standing next to me, apprehension rolling off him, and my instinct is to poke him. I want to tell him it’ll be okay, but I don’t know that, so I take his hand instead, squeezing it harder than I should, relieved when he squeezes back._

 

 _“Pregnant,” Jonah turns the test he’s holding around, it’s one of the fancy ones, the word spelled out on top of it. My heart might burst, and Zach's crushing my hand._  
_Eli stands next to him, but her focus is solely on the test she's got in her hand._  
_“And we’re happy about this?” Christina asks._  
_Jonah doesn’t answer, but the question isn’t for him anyway._  
_Eli nods, a tiny smile playing on her lips._

 _I strike then, abandoning Zach, to beat out everyone else in getting my arms around her, “You’re having a baby.”_  
_There’s backslapping and congratulations happening next to us, but Eli’s still in the clouds. Full of wonder, she muses, “We’re going to have a baby.”_  
_Zach hugs her next, whispering something that makes her cry. He leans back grinning._  
_“Can I blame this on the hormones yet?” Eli rubs at her eyes._  
_Jack laughs, lifting her off the ground, “You’re going to get so fat.”_  
_Brooke smacks his arm, and Jonah growls until he sets her back down._  
_Eli primly lifts her chin, “I’ll gain a respectable amount of weight to grow a human, and it’ll still be less than that summer you,” She makes air-quotes, “lost the meal plan."_  
_Corbyn snorts, “This kid better get your sense of humor.”_  
_“Is it bad I’m already jealous of their face structure?” Christina smirks, “They’re going to come out of the womb all jawline and cheekbones.”_  
_“Thank god I’m getting out of the industry,” Angi decides, “Baby Frantzich would put me out of a job for sure.” Daniel wraps his arm around her, and says something in her ear to make her giggle, but I’m still stuck on the second part of Angi’s statement._  
_“Wait,” I look at Jonah, “Your last name is Frantzich?”_  
_The guys cackle, and I maybe shouldn’t have said that so horrified, but how did that not seem like relevant information for someone to tell me?_  
_Jonah glares at them, but there’s humor in his voice, “And this is why I picked Marias.”_  
_“Because it’s better to have a last name no one knows how to pronounce than a weird one,” Zach jokes._  
_Eli messes up his hair, purposely mispronouncing his last name, “That’s enough from you, Mr. Heroin.”_  
_He sticks his tongue out at her, but Christina interrupts him before he can respond, “Okay,” She’s basically jumping up and down, “Time for champagne.”_  
_“Christina,” Corbyn shakes his head._  
_“We have to toast with something, and I deserve a drink after today,” She drags him towards the kitchen, “And, I got kombucha for Eli.”_  
_“Yay champagne,” Zach throws his arm around my shoulders to lead me out of the room, and he’s so magnetic, I just go with it._  
_I share kombucha with Eli though because I have to be at practice unreasonably early, and Christina’s enthusiastic assurances that I’d be fine with one glass aren't enough to convince me to risk it._

_Zach follows me upstairs, when everyone who doesn’t live here finally goes home. I know I should go to my room, close my door and go to bed, but I can’t seem to make myself._  
_We end up in the hall, standing close together still buzzing with energy and nerves and joy._  
_“I’m just,” I meet his eyes._  
_“I know,” He nods._  
_“I feel,” I bounce on my toes._  
_“I know,” He smirks._  
_“I can’t believe her last name is going to be Frantzich.”_  
_Zach snickers, “I can’t believe you didn’t know his last name is Frantzich.”_  
_He smells like champagne, “What’s your guess? Boy or girl?”_  
_“Boy,” He says, “One hundred percent.”_  
_“I guess I get why you’d think that,” I bite my lip, “She’s always looking after you. Eli’s basically a boy mom already.”_  
_“Think we caused it?” Zach rests his hand on the wall above my head, “Always calling Jonah the dad one? Now he really is.”_  
_“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” I roll my eyes, “And it’s definitely a girl.”_  
_“Oh, really?” His eyes are pure mischief._  
_“She’ll have Jonah’s eyes and Eli’s dimples.”_  
_“I guess we’ll have to see about that,” Zach’s face is very, very, close to mine._  
_“I guess we will,” I suddenly sound breathless._  
_“I’d like to kiss you,” He’s staring at my mouth._  
_I can’t think of a response to that, not when he’s right in front of me. I know there's a bunch of reasons why that's an awful idea, but I can't think of even one. I'm just frozen, watching him watch me._  
_“But,” He closes his eyes, sways a bit, and murmurs, “I’m a little drunk, and you didn’t say yes, and I’m no good for you,” He bows his head to touch his nose to mine before shoving himself backwards away from me, and into his room, “Goodnight, slugger.”_  
_“Goodnight, Zach,” He’s gone before I find the words._

 

 

 


	4. Brawler

_Harper._

_Jonah and Eli are married at City Hall on Wednesday, just the two of them._  
_She wears an old soft white tulle skirt sweeping her calves, a white sweater borrowed from Christina, with a new pair of blue heels Milo overnighted her, and has never looked prettier. Jonah only owns one suit, but he wears it with a smile you could see from space._  
_They let Zach post on the band’s instagram account that night, trying to control the narrative around their relationship which until now they've never disclosed in public. He seems like an odd choice to break the news, but Zach begs to get the right to do it, and neither of them can deny him._

 _Zach decides on a picture that must have been taken years ago, of Jonah and Eli posing against a brick wall with so much electricity between them you can almost feel it, and one of them beaming on the courthouse steps. He captions them, eloquently;_  
_‘thank you for the breakfasts, the advice, the endless patience, and the open door_  
_but, most of all, that you for making our brother smile like that’_

 _It’s the talk of every single person at practice Thursday morning._  
_“Hey Harper,” our freshman goalie, Kennedy, greets me, “Did you see?”_  
_I tilt my head, more focused on getting my gear on than the conversation happening around me._  
_“Jonah Marais got married,” Ruby cries._  
_“To their choreographer,” Someone else adds, like that’s a scandal._  
_“So?” I pull my socks up over my shinguards, and they continue talking around me._  
_“It’s so sad!”_  
_“He’s always been single!”_  
_“He’s the sweetest!”_  
_“He’s supposed to marry me, he just didn’t know it yet!”_  
_I suppress my laughter. They’re all insane if they thought they’d ever get with Jonah._  
_He only has eyes for Eli._  
_“At least they’re gorgeous together,” Ruby sighs, “I guess.”_  
_I’m eternally grateful Ruby never remembers names or faces of people who aren’t soccer players, because she’s met Eli, a bunch of times, and Eli's easily recognizable to anyone else._  
_“Yeah,” Kennedy agrees, “They’ll make beautiful babies.”_  
_That’s the comment that makes me choke._  
_Ruby thumps on my back, “Breathe, HD.”_  
_“I’m fine,” I wheeze, getting my coughing fit under control._  
_She looks at me funny, then offers her hand to pull me up to standing, “Yeah, okay. Let’s go get our laps in.”_

 _Ruby knocks her head against the wall in the locker room when we’re finished with afternoon practice, “Is this heat-exhaustion or jet-lag?” She moans, “Are you still suffering, or is it just me?”_  
_“It’s just you,” I unlace my cleats, “You’re probably just not sleeping enough.”_  
_“I got eight hours last night,” Ruby protests._  
_“Eight hours,” Kennedy cries, “I don’t even remember what sleeping for more three hours feels like.”_  
_“Isn’t sleep, literally, the only thing we’re allowed to do outside practice?” I set my wrist support in my locker. It’s in our contracts, we aren’t allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, and are supposed to focus on our health outside of practice. I think I slept fourteen hours a night last weekend._  
_Kennedy checks to make sure none of the coaches are within hearing distance, “My host family has five kids,” Her eyes are huge, "They scream constantly. I haven’t slept through the night since I got there. I didn’t want kids before, but now I want a hysterectomy.”_  
_“Oh, boy,” Ruby laughs, “Mine goes to church four times a week. That’s more than I’ve been to church in years. My family’s full of CEOs, you know? Christmases and Easters Only,” She throws her hands up._  
_“I’m so jealous you get to live with your sister,” Kennedy whines._  
_I shrug. A ridiculous number of people have keys to our house, reporters camp outside the neighborhood gate, and my roommate refuses to cover up, but those aren’t real complaints because I still wouldn’t want to live anywhere else this summer._  
_“Do you have plans on Sunday?” Ruby pushes her locker closed, “I could skip bible study if I’m going to be with you, and we could get Kennedy out of the daycare she’s living in.”_  
_“Please, god,” Kennedy begs._  
_Technically, I don’t. The guys are leaving for something Jonah called a ‘radio jaunt’ on Saturday, but I’m still not letting anyone from the team in their house, “My family’s coming here for the weekend.”_  
_That’s also a technicality, since it’s Eli’s parents and brothers in California this weekend, but I love them, and I’m invited to everything they’re doing._  
_“Next weekend,” Ruby sighs._  
_“Sure,” I’ll have come up with another excuse by then, but I have a whole week to come up with one, so I let it go for now._

 

 _The house is quiet when I get home, but there’s a car I think belongs to Jack in the driveway, and I can hear voices coming from somewhere outside. “Hello?”_  
_“Out here,” Zach answers, and I drop my gym bag on the stairs to go find him._  
_The french doors in the living room are open, framing Jack, Daniel, and Zach assembling something in the backyard._

 _Eli and Jonah might have the best backyard in Los Angeles. Their pool is a perfect blue rectangle in the back, they have a basketball ball hoop attached to the back of their garage over a half-court that was a barbecue area when her dad lived here, and there’s still a big open yard._  
_The view isn’t bad either._

 _“Is that?” I survey the guys' building project, “Is that a soccer goal?”_  
_Zach winks at me, “Maybe.”_  
_“Bro,” Jack flops down on the grass, “Don’t be cute. We need her help,” He looks up at me, “We’ve been out here for an hour. You know how to put one of these things together, right? You’re, like, a professional.”_  
_“I don’t think professionals set up their own equipment,” Daniel tries to put his half of the base in backwards._  
_“Lucky for you,” I take the net out of Zach’s hands, “I’m not a professional.”_  
_He smirks, moving to lay down next to Jack, “So you’ve got this?”_  
_“I can’t do it alone,” I kick at his shin._  
_“Fine,” Zach takes the pieces I hand him, so melodramatic I have to smile._

 _I’m securing the back post when Zach notices the stain on my shirt._  
_“Jesus,” He whistles, “What did you do now?”_  
_I pick up my jersey to show him the grass ground into my abs._  
_“Ew,” Jack makes a face._  
_“That’s,” Daniel starts._  
_“Awesome,” Zach declares, “Is the other girl worse off?”_  
_I shake my head, “Um, no. I was practicing headers.”_  
_He laughs, “Tell me you caught it on the dive?”_  
_“Exactly who do you think you’re talking to?” I grin._  
_“Sorry,” Zach apologizes, “I forgot for a second. Of course, you caught it. Gotta earn those battle scars,” He holds out his fist, and I bump it._  
_We smile at each other, then I toss him the other side of the net._  
_“You’re weird,” Jack points at Zach, then between us, “This is weird, and that looks like it hurts.”_  
_“No grit, no glory,” I quote my brother, then finish securing the net, “That should be it.”_  
_“So, can we test it out?” Zach is practically vibrating._  
_“I suppose,” I chew on my lip to keep from smiling._  
_“Be my goalie?” He bats his eyelashes at me, like I need persuasion._  
_“You know that’s not my position,” I tug on the net, testing its strength._  
_“That’s what she said,” Jack can’t stop himself._  
_Daniel chuckles, and Zach glares at him, asking me, “Is that a no?”_  
_“I didn’t say that,” I stretch my arms out, “But fair warning, I’m pretty bad at goalie.”_  
_“I’ll be the judge of that,” Zach decides._  
_“This ought to be good,” Daniel settles into a lawn chair, “When was the last time you played soccer, Zach?”_  
_“Remember that game I played with my old team? Sometime during Invitation,” He mumbles. Those words don’t make sense to me in that order, but Daniel nods._  
_“That was, like, four years ago,” Jack sits up, “Harper’s going to crush you.”_  
_“Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro,” Zach does high-knees, which I guess is some kind of funny warmup._  
_“I’m just saying,” Jack placates, “You’re going to go head to head with a professional,”_  
_“Not a professional,” I protest._  
_“And you haven’t touched a soccer ball in years,” Jack completely ignores me, “She’s going to kick your ass.”_  
_“I’m, also, not a goalie,” I repeat._  
_Daniel laughs, “Angi played soccer in High School, that wasn’t too recently, but I doubt things have changed much,” He nudges a new Adidas ball to me, it’s highlighter green and I’m not going to think about why, “Her team took turns in the goal, just for practice.”_  
_Daniel has a point, but, “It’s still not my position,” I gently send the ball towards Zach._  
_Zach stops it with his foot, smirking, “Just remember, no hands.”_  
_Incredulous laugher bursts out of me, “I’m in the goal!”_  
_“Oh, right,” He acts like he forgot, but his smile gets wider, “Try not to hate me too much, when you realize how great I am.”_  
_That’s only what I’ve been doing since I met you, I think to myself, telling him instead, “Bring it.”_

 _Zach’s actually not wrong, compared to most causal players I’ve seen, he is good at this. Not at my level, good at this, but he gets a few shots past me that I don’t purposefully let in, and he’s obviously had training. He sticks his tongue out when he aims, has the most absurd celebrations when he scores, and Jack and Daniel give him hell for all of it._  
_I hadn’t played like this in a long time, purely for fun, and I forgot how much I like it. I can’t quit smiling, even as Zach insists we switch sides._  
_I send my first shot short, the ball dropping to the ground a few inches in front of the net._  
_“My ego isn’t that fragile,” Zach plants his hands on his hips._  
_Jack huffs._  
_Zach ignores him, “Just kick the ball, Brawler.”_  
_I consider him, then take three steps back then jog forward to let my left foot connect with the ball, neatly sinking it in the top right corner of the net, clearly faster and harder than Zach expected since he doesn’t even move for it until after the ball lands._  
_“I wasn’t ready,” He sputters._  
_“Sure,” I lace my fingers in front of me, stretching out my arms, “But you told me to do it.”_  
_“Again,” Zach tosses back the ball._  
_I repeat the process twice, set up the ball, three steps back, quick jog, explosive kick to a corner he isn’t expecting, before he gets serious._  
_“Again,” He commands, flipping his cellphone out of his pocket into the grass, and losing his hat._  
_“I can do this all day,” I warn him._  
_“Again,” Zach narrows his eyes in challenge._  
_I shrug, I’m too competitive to ever let a challenge go unmet. I aim my next shot millimeters about his head, ruffling his hair as it flies by._  
_He looks indignant, and Jack cackles._

 _The score is twenty-five to four when Zach checks his phone, then announces, “I better go,” He seems like he’d rather not._  
_“Where are you going?” I tip the ball up with my foot._  
_“Meeting with a realtor,” He searches the yard for where he threw his hat._  
_“Man,” Jack laughs, “I don’t know why you maintain that front.”_  
_“I’ve got to move out, sometime,” Zach grumbles._  
_Daniel catches my confusion, “He does this every couple of months, goes house shopping, then decides it isn’t the right time.”_  
_“Like he’s ever gonna move out,” Jack says that like a fact._  
_“I have to move out, eventually,” Zach repeats._  
_“They haven’t asked you to,” Daniel points out._  
_“It’s still true,” Zach pockets his phone, “You’ll give me a ride?”_  
_“Yes, since that’s how to tricked us into coming over here in the first place,” Jack shoves at him, “I’m stealing a water first though.”_  
_“Come on, Z. We’ll start the car,” Daniel puts his arm around Zach to steer him towards the driveway, calling out, “Bye, Harper.”_  
_“Rematch later?” Zach twists around to look at me._  
_“Anytime,” I grin at him._  
_“Cool,” He smiles back, and I know that smile needs a warning label and should be wrapped in caution tape, but I can’t help the way my heart beats faster in response, until Daniel accidentally-on-purpose shoves him into the gate._  
_I shake my head, watching them go, then whisper to myself, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”_

 

Zach.

Daniel doesn’t get inside the car in the driveway. Instead he corners me, just far enough away from the house and backyard we won’t be overheard, “Sisters are off-limits.”  
“What?” I take a step back, “What are you talking about?”  
“Don’t play dumb, Zach,” Daniel continues staring at me, “Sisters are off-limits, and Harper counts.”  
“You’ve got it wrong, D,” I try to shrug it off, “We’re not like that.”  
“Look, I know she’s a sweet girl, but you need to shut that down. She’s basically Eli’s kid sister,” He emphasizes ‘kid’.  
“She’s eighteen in September,” I regret that sentence immediately.  
“Great,” Daniel looks to the sky, “Fantastic. That’s so reassuring, you’ve already figured out when she’s legal.”  
“It just came up,” I protest.  
“For once, Zach, please, just listen to reason,” He pleads, “You’re living with her until August, and Eli will destroy you if you break Harper’s heart. Never mind what Colton would do to you.”  
I suspect Harper would never let that happen, but I swallow that down, “Yeah. I know.”  
“Okay, then,” He slaps a hand on my back, “Let’s just survive the next few months, get back on tour, and you’ll meet all kinds of pretty girls that aren’t your roommate.”

 

Harper has a mountain of clothes on her bed and headphones in, when I get back. The girl has more lime green athletic gear than any person should.  
She’s singing under her breath, folding haphazardly, while nodding her head to the beat, “Hold me down, hold me down, throw me in the deep and watch me drown,” She fakes a boxing punch in the air, “Knock me out, knock me out, saying that I want more, this is what I live for.”  
I pause in the hallway and watch her.  
She is a terrible singer. I have no idea why I find that so attractive.  
Harper turns to put something in her dresser, and jumps, “Dammit, Zach,” She yanks her headphones off, “You scared me!”  
“Sorry,” I walk into her space, “I was just enjoying the concert.”  
“Uh-huh,” She slams the drawer shut, “Because I’m such a talented singer?”  
“You’re not that bad?” I try, sitting down in the chair beside her window.  
“I’m practically tone-deaf,” Harper hands me a bunch of her shirts, commanding over her shoulder “Fold those,” She turns back to the pile on her bed, “Nobody in my family can sing. Alden sounds like a dying animal, and Colt’s not much better. Car rides with them are migraine inducing.”  
“I think that’s just universal,” I line up the sides of her jerseys, folding it in thirds to make a square, “Siblings are meant to make traveling awful, mine have to try to suck, because they actually have good voices, but they accomplish it in the car anyway.”  
“At least they’re capable sometimes. We’re just horrible always,” Harper matches her socks, “How was house hunting?”  
“Useless,” I lean my head back.  
“How’s that?” She tosses paired socks into her pillows.  
“My realtor is nice, but she keeps showing me all these,” I search for the word, “Party condos?”  
“Party condos?” Harper squints at me.  
“I don’t know how else to describe them,” I cross my ankle over my knee, “They’ve got more pools than bedrooms, the biggest thing in every kitchen is a bar, and my agent tries to sell me on them because some models or ex-disney stars, or whatever, live there, but, like, I don’t know who any of those people are, and I wouldn’t care anyway? They’re just people.”  
She bites her lip, her eyes laughing, “You’re not really what people say you are, are you, Zach?”  
“Ah,” I don’t know how to respond to that.  
Harper locks eyes with me, “What did you say you wanted in a property?”  
“Two bedrooms and security?” I shrug, “I don’t know anything about buying a house.”  
“Maybe,” She scoops up the rest of her laundry, lacy things I’m trying not to consider too closely with Daniel’s lecture still echoing in my mind, and drops them in her top drawer, “Maybe, I could help?”  
“Yeah?” I hold out her folded tops.  
“If you want,” She’s hesitates, taking her clothes out of my hand, “I don’t know much about home buying either, but…”  
“No,” I cut her off, “That would be awesome, fresh eyes could only help at this point.” Harper’s smart, and I feel comfortable with her, in a way I don’t with most people.   
“Okay,” She dusts off her hands, “Wanna watch Dial M for Murder and eat the PopTarts I smuggled into Eli’s pantry?”  
“Are they strawberry?”  
“I’m not a monster.” 

I shake my head, following her to the living room. Harper definitely isn't a monster, but she just might wreck me.


	5. Havoc

Zach.

It’s strange, how our house swings from this chill oasis into compete chaos, on a daily basis.  
This morning, it’s a madhouse.  
Jonah’s freaking out about leaving Eli now that there is either a Rorschach test or photograph of their unborn child on the fridge, Jack slept on the sofa and is still in the shower, and I’m attempting to eat my breakfast as quickly as possible standing next to Harper who’s smacking on her granola watching Eli pack lunch around us.  
“Zach, Daniel will be here in ten minutes,” Jonah looks like he hasn’t slept at all, “If you haven’t packed yet, we will leave you.”  
“No, you won’t,” I shovel more eggs into my mouth, unconcerned since my suitcase is already beside the door.  
Eli tucks her hair behind her ears, staring into her empty lunchbox. She glances up at Jonah, “Where are your headphones?”  
He pivots and walks back to their bedroom.  
Jonah is barely out of the kitchen when the front door slams open, and I don’t know what it says about our lives that no one is remotely startled by this.  
“Elijah,” Eli’s youngest brother, Merritt, a football player at a big state school, comes careening into view, whining, “Penn’s trying to kill me.”  
Harper reaches over to tug the sonogram off the fridge, shoving it at me, a second before Merritt notices her.  
I press it into my back pocket while he barrels over to her, “Harper!”  
“Hi, Mer,” Harper responds, her face and granola mug mashed into Merritt’s sweaty t-shirt.  
Merritt fake glares at his sister, “Why didn’t you tell me my princess is in town?”  
“Princess?” I silently mouth at Harper. She currently has two scabbed over knees.  
She shakes her head, mouthing back, “Later.”  
“I told you she was here for the summer,” Eli scrunches her nose.  
“You have the memory of a goldfish,” Harper pushes him back, grinning.  
“Hey,” Merrit complains, “I have excellent recall.”  
“It’s not your fault,” She taps her fist against his skull, “You’ve just had too many hits to the head.”  
Eli objects, “Don’t joke about that.”  
“Merritt,” Eli’s other brother’s voice booms out from the front hall, “Let’s go, we’ve got two more miles!” Penn stops in the hallway, breathing heavy, “Hi baby,” He smiles at his sister, Eli’s childhood nickname rolling off his tongue, “Harper,” He nods at her.  
“Penn,” She nods back.  
“You look well,” He lifts his hand to catch a PowerAid Eli throws at him, “Settling into the team alright?”  
“It’s an adjustment,” Harper half-smiles, “Being new is kinda the worst.”  
“It’s just envy,” Merritt steals her granola mug, leaving her holding the spoon, then turns it over to empty it in his mouth, telling her with his mouth full, “ ‘Cause you’re so much better than them.”  
Harper knocks her shoulder into his, “Thanks, Merritt.”  
“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” He still has granola in his teeth.  
“Like I’d missing watching you eat tiny fancy food,” She takes the mug out of his hands.  
Merritt groans, “You hate it too.”  
“You’ve both made your reluctance to appreciate fine dinning very clear,” Eli scolds them, but it’s not genuine.  
“You’re an athlete too,” Merritt argues, “Most of us need to eat, you’re the exception. I bet you’ve been starving Harper,” He puts his hands around Harper’s waist, “I’ll feed you, Princess, take you out somewhere nice for real food after family dinner.”  
“Oh?” She blinks at him, “In and Out is fancy now?”  
“Ha,” Penn laughs, smashing his empty bottle, "He tried to talk me into that for breakfast."  
“You’re a menace,” Harper rolls her eyes.  
“You love me,” Merritt says, with a certainty that makes me want to punch him.  
Harper wiggles out of his grasp, “God help me.”  
I drop my empty plate and fork in the sink.  
“Just for that, we’re getting Taco Bell,” Merritt laughs at her.  
“Jack,” Jonah bangs on the guest bathroom door, “Let’s go.”  
Penn does a double take, “Is there a particular reason he’s…?”  
“Tearing his hair out?” I fill in the blank.  
“I thought you just had press on the East Coast next week,” Penn tilts his head. That Jonah is usually the low-maintenance one goes unsaid.  
“Yeah, for the new album,” I shove my feet into my sneakers, “But…”  
Jonah finishes my sentence,“But the only thing anybody’s going to ask about is your sister.” He walks into Eli’s space, standing as close to her as he can without getting in her way.  
“Shot yourself in the foot with that one, didn’t you? This is why you don’t run off marrying people,” Penn jokes, then frowns, “Everyone in radio is always after me for stories on her anyway,” He’s a musician too, in the country scene like their Dad, “and I didn’t hide my association for five years. You’re screwed.”  
“It’ll be fine,” I aim for encouraging, “You had your reasons, and if they don’t let it go, I’ll just drop hits about my love life.”  
Not that I want to discuss my relationships either, but my reputation is already in the gutter, and I’d do for Jonah.  
“I knew I liked you,” Merritt holds his hand out, and I can’t leave him hanging for calling Harper ‘Princess’, even though I want to, because that would be suspicious.  
“No one is dropping hints about anyone’s love life,” Eli commands, and Jonah’s phone starts ringing.  
“Jack,” Jonah yells, “Our ride’s here!”  
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jack stumbles out of the bathroom with his duffle bag, “Keep your panties on,” He notices Eli’s brothers, “Merritt. Pennsylvania.”  
“Jacksonville,” Penn salutes him.  
“We don’t have time for this,” Jonah herds me out of the kitchen.  
“We need to get moving too,” Penn moves for the door.  
“You’re killing me,” Merritt protests, but follows him, “See you tonight, Harp.”  
“Bye, Merritt,” Harper adds another handful of granola to her mug, watching Jonah push Jack towards the hall, “Have a good trip, guys.”  
Eli goes with them, and I stall in the kitchen with Harper, “So…”  
“It’s not what you think. I’ve known Merritt since I was born. He calls me ‘Princess’,” Harper makes air-quotes, “because I was a really bossy kid, and made him play fairytale with me, even though he’s two years older and pretended he was too tough. He’s a six-foot-four teddy-bear, and the biggest flirt in the world, but we don’t like each other like that,” She leans back against the counter.  
“That,” I roll the word around, “That makes sense.”  
“I don’t like anyone like that,” Harper looks at me, her face inscrutable, but I can tell she’s lying.  
“Except me,” I knock my foot against hers, because I can't not say it. Watching her blush confirms what I already suspected. I smirk, “Have a nice weekend, Havoc.”  
“See you Tuesday, Zach,” Harper shakes her head, ignoring my insinuation, even though her cheeks are pink and she didn’t push me away.  
Jonah starts shouting my name then, and I jog out of the kitchen without looking back. I catch up with them at the bottom of the driveway, Eli pressing a breakfast bar into Jack’s hand, “Hug Brooke for me.”  
“You got it,” He yawns, trudging up to the car.  
“Be safe,” Eli studies Jonah, then presses her lips against his. It’s lightening quick, but it gets him to exhale, nod, then drag his luggage into the trunk of the car.  
She eyes me next, “Keep them in line?”  
“I think you got your speeches switched,” I peck her cheek, “Don’t worry, okay? I got this.”  
Eli licks her thumb, then tries in vain to smooth down some of my hair, “Call me when you land.”  
“You’ll be my first text,” I agree.  
“Eat something other than pizza.”  
“Is Chipotle acceptable?”  
“Don’t discuss your ex-girlfriends on the radio.”  
“No promises?”  
“Zach!” Jonah demands, “Get in the car.”

 “This is crazy,” Daniel checks his rear-view mirror when we’re finally clear of the photographers outside the neighborhood gatehouse.  
“They haven’t realized Eli doesn’t drive yet,” Jonah looks out the window, his foot tapping anxiously, “but they’ve got dozens of me, going to the grocery store and coming home from the studio.”  
“Because you’re the boring-est,” I point out, “They’ll get tired of it eventually, I know from experience.”  
“I wish you didn’t,” Jonah puts his arm around me.  
“It is what it is,” I look at Daniel, “Can we stop for coffee?”  
“Zach,” Jack waves his phone in front of my face, “We’re supposed to be at the airport in twenty minutes.” He’s just prissy because Brooke’s in New York, and if we miss our flight, he'll have less time with her.  
“Drive-through?” I plead, “I’ll pay,” I sit up to pull my wallet out, and find the photograph Harper made me hide. I give it to Jonah, “You left this on the fridge. Harper saw it before the Kelleys’ did.”  
“That would’ve been a nightmare,” Jonah scratches his chin, “That’s probably the last way Eli would them to find out.”  
“When are you going to tell them?” Corbyn turns towards the backseat.  
“Soon,” Jonah thumbs over the picture, “The doctor said she’s eleven weeks, which means we’re close to the safe zone, for telling people, and the vomiting should get ease up.”  
“Should?” Daniel glances at him.  
Jonah’s eyebrows pull together, “There’s no guarantee, sometimes it doesn’t stop until the baby’s born.”  
“Ick,” Jack grimaces.  
“Eli’s fine though, otherwise?” Corbyn asks, “She told Christina they’re okay, but…”  
“They’re okay. Eli’s underweight, but that isn’t new, and the baby’s healthy,” Jonah confirms, “The doctor still wants to run a million tests, but everything looked good.”  
“Can I see at that?” Jack reaches for the picture in Jonah’s hand, then squints at it, pointing to the tiny blob, “That’s it?”  
“Looks like a Rorschach test, doesn’t it?” I lean into Jack.  
“Zach,” Corbyn admonishes.  
“Corbyn,” I jostle his chair, “I know the kid’s going to be good-looking, no question, but I’m just saying, right now?” I pass the sonogram from Jack to Corbyn, “This looks more like a peanut than a person.”  
“Huh,” Corbyn looks at it, “It does look sort of like a Rorschach test.”  
“Okay,” Jonah drags out the word, taking the photo back from Corbyn, struggling not to laugh.  
“When do you find out if it’s a boy or girl?” Daniel asks.  
“We’re not,” Jonah shrugs, “We want to be surprised.”  
“Because having a baby isn’t surprise enough?” I look at him with one eye closed.  
“Zach,” Jack elbows me.  
“I’m just saying!” I pinch Jack’s thigh, “How are they going to name it, if they don’t know what it is?”  
“We already have,” Jonah smiles, half his mouth quirked up.  
“Seriously?” Corbyn gets excited, “What is it?”  
“I’m not going to tell you,” Jonah looks up, “We want to keep it to ourselves until they’re born.”  
“That’s fine,” I grin, “I’ll just call him Rorschach for now, Rory for short.”  
“Please don’t,” Jonah runs his hand through his hair.  
“Why not? Rory’s a great name,” I defend.  
“Eli’s horses are Jesse and Dean, after the boyfriends in Gilmore Girls,” He grumbles, “If you start calling the baby Rory, she’s going to change her mind and name my daughter Lorelei.”  
“That’s fantastic,” Jack grins, “You should definitely do that.”  
“Why am I here again?” Jonah sighs.  
“Because there’s no take backs, you’re stuck with us now,” Corbyn locks the doors, just to illustrate his point, since the car is currently going fifty down the interstate and there’s no where to bail to anyway, “I think Rory’s a great name.”  
“You named your dog Coconut Marshmallow,” Daniel laughs, “Your naming privileges are revoked.”  
Corbyn gasps, “Co is the softest white pug on earth, what else would we call her?”  
“Something that didn’t give your dog the same initials as you and your future wife?” Jack laughs, “Your kid is going to end up Captain Morgan, to keep the theme.”  
“None of you should be allowed to name anything, ever,” Jonah shakes his head, but he’s honestly smiling now, and his leg has stopped bouncing, so I’m counting that as a success.

 

 

_Harper._

_Penn takes Eli and I home from dinner with their dad, and Merritt comes along for the ride. He manages to talk his brother into drive-through tacos, and we stuff our faces in the backseat, laughing until my stomach hurts._

_Merritt has always been my built-in-buddy. There was never a chance for us not to be friends, we were always thrown together by our families, and had enough in common not to protest. We were in middle school by the time I realized our friendship was special at all._  
_It’s rare to have someone your age know you for your whole life. It’s even more unusual to genuinely like them that all of time. Merritt and I understand each other, and because there’s a kind of safety in how we know each other, we can go months without talking and fall back into our usual banter in minutes._

 _Eli and Penn disappear into the studio after we get home, having traded his braiding her hair for her workshopping his new music, and Merritt follows me into the backyard wordlessly._  
_I lose the flip-flops Eli talked me into, and sit down on the edge of the pool._  
_Merrit’s feet splash in the water next to mine, “How is the team for real? Have you picked a roommate yet? Does anyone need an attitude adjustment?”_  
_“The coaching staff is excellent, my friend Ruby from soccer camp is here, and I like our new goalie,” I lie down in the grass, keeping my feet in the water, “But I’m still warming up to the rest of the team, and they aren’t used to me. It doesn’t feel like my team yet, nothing’s really clicking, but it's like nobody’s connecting, and it’s been a couple weeks,” I bite my lip._  
_“College is an adjustment,” He flops down on his back next to me, “It took me a semester to feel like my team was my team. As long as no one’s gunning for you too hard, you’ll be alright.”_  
_I kick at the pool, “I know.”_  
_“Can I ask about Zach?” I knew that was coming. Merritt’s too observant for his own good._  
_“Nope.”_  
_“Princess.”_  
_“Mer-maid.”_  
_Merritt pokes my side, “He gave me murder eyes when I touched you.”_  
_“He did not,” I can feel him staring at me, “Maybe a little? It’s confusing.”_  
_“What’s confusing about it?”_  
_I turn my head to look at him, “He’s Zach Herron, for starters.”_  
_“And you’re Harper Elizabeth Davis. That doesn’t seem like a problem.”_  
_I close my eyes, “It’s a lot.”_  
_“He’s a good dude, Harper.”_  
_“I met him on my flight to California, when he ended up in the seat next to me, because his girlfriend broke up with him by trashing his possessions and stealing his phone.”_  
_“I didn’t say he was perfect,” Merritt barely manages to keep a straight face, but I don’t stand a chance. I laugh so hard my eyes water._  
_I brush my fingers over my face, “I don’t even know what he wants with me, Mer. Have you seen his ex-girlfriends?”_  
_“It’s not like you’re ugly,” Merritt rolls his eyes, “You have the biggest heart. You’re funny, and smart, and the most singularly talented soccer player I’ve ever seen.”_  
_I start to protest, and he interrupts, “Will you just listen to me? I get what you’re worried about, but I have seen his ex-girlfriends, and they all seem the same to me.”_  
_“Drop-dead beautiful?”_  
_“Boring, Princess. They’re all so fucking boring, the same shade of bottle blonde and lacking even an ounce of the spirit you have,” He takes my hand, weaving our fingers together, “You wouldn’t win a beauty pageant against those girls, because you think sunscreen counts as makeup and permanently look like you just defeated the Huns, but if there was a competition on who would be better the better date? The better friend or partner?" He squeezes my hand, "You’d win. Every-time."_  
_My giant teddy-bear. I tell him sincerely, “I’m really glad our siblings messed around in High School.”_  
_He chuckles, “Me too, Princess, me too.”_  
_We lie there for a while, watching the sky as if you could see stars in Los Angeles, before I turn on him, “Are we going to talk about what you’re doing here?”_  
_“Helping Penn on his business trip?” Merritt pulls off nonchalant not at all, his voice raising two octaves._  
_“You get six weeks of summer before training starts, and your mom stayed home. You wouldn't leave her unless you’re running to or away from something, and you’re giving me boy advice at midnight, so by process of elimination, whatever the reason is, they aren't here,” I gesture towards the valley below us._  
_“You’re here,” He tries._  
_“Which you didn’t know until this morning.”_  
_“It’s a mess.”_  
_“I'm not going anywhere.”_  
_“The thing is…”_

 

_We stay in the backyard until Penn and Merritt go back to their hotel, and Zach doesn't come up again, but everything Merritt said plays in my mind on repeat. I'm supposed to be focused on soccer, not the way Zach smiled when he accused me of liking him, but of course, that's the only thing I can see when I'm trying to fall asleep._

_Zach's the baby, the cute one, the heartbreaker, and I don't know exactly how much of that is true, because I know he isn't everything people think of him, but there’s still enough to scare me off. It's just too bad I've never ran away from anything I should._

_This is going to end so, so poorly._

_I punch my pillow. Stupid Zach and his stupid perfect smirk._

 

 

 

 

   


	6. Mayhem

_Harper._

_“I may have, possibly, pulled a Chris Crocker,” Zach’s voice is both shy and satisfied, over the phone._  
_Eli answered his call on speaker, while standing in the middle of her kitchen searing green beans. Zach’s voice bounces off her high ceiling, but I can still hear him perfectly, “Who is Chris Crocker?”_  
_“The boy who went viral for defending Miss Spears,” Milo informs me. He’s stretching on the floor of the living room, because Eli paused their choreography to make dinner with me when I got home from practice._

_Milo came into town last Wednesday, in the middle of the band’s brief reprieve from visiting what might be every radio station in the country. They were home for less than forty-eight hours before leaving again, which was exactly long enough for Milo to drag us, Jonah, Eli, Zach and me, to the best taco truck in Los Angeles, then down to the beach. Hoodies and sunglasses seemed like the worst disguise, but no one recognized them, and Zach talked me into spitting the biggest ice cream sundae I’ve ever seen, then threw me into the ocean for making fun of him wearing a sweatshirt on the beach. It was worth getting soaked to watch his face when I pulled him down with me, even if we had to Uber home by ourselves, Milo flat-out refusing to let us in his car sandy and wet._

_I tell myself I don’t miss him, that the house isn’t too quiet, and I don’t actually like sharing all my snacks, but it’s kind of pointless, when just his voice is alluring enough to draw me into the kitchen._

_“I’m on speaker, aren’t I?” Zach asks, and I laugh._  
_“Hi Zach,” Milo calls._  
_“Hi Zach,” I smile at Eli’s phone._  
_“Uh, hey, Milo,” He sounds almost embarrassed, “Hi, Mayhem.”_  
_Eli clears her throat, “Do you want to explain your ‘Leave Britney alone’ moment?”_  
_“I may have,” Zach struggles, “I might’ve, potentially… Gotten really pissed at the line of questioning directed at Jonah this afternoon and, maybe, gone, a little, off the rails?”_  
_“You may have, or you did?” Eli scrunches her nose._  
_“I did,” Zach says, defeated._  
_Milo immediately starts laughing, “Cabrón," He curses affectionately, “I can’t wait to see this.”_  
_“I swear,” Zach rushes out, “I didn’t mean to do it. They just won’t quit, E. All those paps outside the gate at home, everybody in the media, just asking the same dumbass questions. They have no right to do that, and,”_  
_“Zach,” Eli quiets him, “It’s okay.”_  
_“I’m really, really, sorry,” Zach apologizes, “Not that I didn’t mean it, but… I know this isn’t what you wanted.”_  
_“It’s okay, Zach. I know your heart’s in the right place,” Eli shakes her head, “How’s Jonah?”_  
_“Watching my every move from the bus window like he thinks I’m going to make a run for it,” Zach offers, “I should probably get back in there.”_  
_That’s what makes Eli dimple, “Tell him you’re forgiven.”_  
_“Yeah,” He breathes out, “Thanks, Elijah.”_  
_“I’ll see you Thursday, Zachary,” She twirls the wooden spoon in her hand, “Try to stay out of trouble.”_  
_“Okay,” He huffs, “Bye, guys.”_  
_“Goodnight, Zach,” I pick up Eli’s phone to hang up, since she’s occupied._  
_“G’night, Punk,” Zach answers, then he’s gone._

_“Where were they today?” Milo’s already entering the password to Eli’s computer._

_Eli and Milo have never had boundaries. I’m almost positive he’s sleeping in her bed while Jonah is away, but they’re working crazy hours, so I haven’t actually seen either of them go to sleep, or wake up, since he got here._  
_They had this plan for Eli to take a lot of next year ‘off’ from the daily grind of their company, Attitude, in order to choreograph for Why Don’t We, then oversee a bunch of their United States tour dates, and nearly all of their international stops. It’s up in the air now, if she’ll be able to tour with them or not, since taking an infant anywhere is supposed to be a struggle, but the pregnancy has added yet another time constraint on the insane amount filming they need to do for their YouTube channel. They have to film nearly everything Eli will be in for the next eighteen months, in the next couple weeks._  
_So they’re constantly working, and every piece of living room furniture has been relegated to lining the walls._

 _“Must we do this?” Eli watches Milo search for the interview._  
_“We need to know what he said,” Milo counters, “I really don’t understand how that kid manages to put his foot in his mouth as often as he does…”_  
_Eli sighs, “He’s great at intentions, terrible at execution.”_  
_“Oh, good,” Milo clicks on YouTube, “There’s a video.”_  
_“Oh, good,” Eli echoes, completely sarcastically._

_The camera is angled, shooting from the corner of the room, catching the band crowded around three microphones and the gray-haired interviewer on the other side of the table._

_Jonah looks, not nervous, but visibly uncomfortable. They’ve put him in the middle, sandwiched between Zach and Corbyn with Jack and Daniel taking the outside seats, and every one of them looks like they could use a nap, or a Red Bull._  
_There’s the muffled sounds of general greetings, then the interviewer jumps in, staring directly at Jonah, “I hear congratulations are in order.”_  
_“Thanks, man,” Corbyn tries to distract him, “Christina and I are super happy.”_  
_It doesn’t work. “I’ve seen you since your engagement,” He hardly looks at Corbyn, “It’s still excellent news, but,” He swivels back to Jonah, “After years of claiming to be single, you’re a married man.”_  
_Jonah nods, ignoring the insinuation that he was hiding the truth, “I am.”_  
_“To Abraham Kelley’s daughter, no less,” The interviewer smirks._  
_“She’s an insanely talented dancer and incredibly successful businesswoman,” Jonah’s face gives nothing away, “But you’re correct. She is, also, Mr. Kelley’s daughter.”_

 _“Go Jonah,” I remark, appreciating the way he talks about her. That is my sister they’re discussing, and she’s so much more than who her father is._  
_Milo grins, “Good on him.”_

_“I’ve met her, a few times,” The interviewer continues, a sly tone to his voice I instantly distrust, “She’s always seemed like such a sweet girl, but I suppose she’s a bit of a cougar, huh?”_

_I recoil, “You’re three years older than Jonah, and he is twenty-four.”_  
_Eli just shakes her head._

 _On screen, the band takes a beat._  
_Jonah’s clenches his jaw. Corbyn and Daniel frown, and Jack straight up glares at the man._  
_Zach, though, Zach loses his trying-for-charming smile, and pushes himself back from the table, “Don’t speak about what you don’t know.”_  
_“Oh, that’s right,” The interviewer doesn’t seem register the tension radiating towards him, “You live with them, don’t you? Or was that a lie too?”_  
_Zach’s carefully restrained control snaps, “Yes, I live with them, and keeping something private doesn’t make it a lie. Legally, you’re single until you’re married.”_  
_“So you approve then?” This guy just won’t quit. I want to punch him and I’m not even there._  
_Zach’s face turns red with anger, “Eli’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to Jonah, and that they’ve let me live with them since I was seventeen?” He stares at the guy, “That’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me too,” Zach gestures towards the rest of the band, “We’d have all been dead years ago, if it wasn’t for her dragging us to the gym and forcing us to eat a salad every once in a while.”_  
_The other guys nod in agreement, Jonah watching with the tiniest hint of pride._  
_“Say whatever you want about me, or Jonah, or any of the rest of the band, but leave Eli out of it, man,” Zach narrows his eyes, “She’s a good person, and she doesn’t deserve any of this.”_

 _Milo pauses the video, trying not to laugh, Eli closes her eyes, looking towards the ceiling, but I just want to kiss him. Zach said everything I’ve been thinking since those awful headlines started appearing, and in the process shut down a reporter I know he was supposed to smooze. I’ve never been more attracted to someone._  
_I grew up with two older brothers and Eli who taught me if you love something you protect it, by any means necessary._  
_I don’t know Zach the way I want to, not yet, but watching him defend someone I love?_  
_That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen._

_The buzzer on the dryer forces me off the sofa at a quarter past midnight, so I’m piling clothes into my laundry basket when I hear the front door open._  
_“Leave it all here,” Jonah whispers, presumably to Zach, “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”_  
_“Oh, thank Christ,” Zach moans, his voice rough the way it turns when he’s exhausted._  
_I drag my stuff into the hall, and catch their eyes._  
_“Hey Harper,” Jonah gives me a tired smile. The circles under his eyes have circles, “Is Eli already in bed?”_  
_I bite my lip and shake my head, pointing him towards the living room. She fell asleep an hour ago on the couch across from me, clinging to a pillow and frowning in her sleep. Milo went to bed in the guest-room after dinner, and I haven't seen him since._  
_Jonah crouches down in front of Eli, gently moving the hair out of her face, “Gorgeous.”_  
_“Jo,” She mumbles as he lifts her up into his arms, “Que hora est?”_  
_“Late,” Jonah answers, carrying her into their room, “We’re going to bed.”_

_Zach watches them beside me, then scoops the hamper out of my arms after their door closes, “Come on, Scrapper. I’ll fold your laundry, if you make me tea.”_

_I lean against the counter once the kettle is on, watching Zach fold my jerseys. He’s meticulous about lining up the hems, and stacking them on the kitchen island beside him._  
_“You’re kind of OCD about that,” I take a mug down for him out of the cupboard._  
_“I kind of have to be,” Zach snorts, “If you fold things tightly, you can fit more in a suitcase.”_  
_“That makes sense then, since you basically live out of one,” I dig around in the pantry for the tea he likes._  
_“I didn’t know how to do laundry on our first tour,” He confesses, “I was just a kid, but I put everything I owed in the washer on hot,” Zach grins, “It shrunk just about all of it, including what I inadvertently tie-dyed.”_  
_“Well, you’re better at it now,” I smile at my perfectly folded wardrobe._  
_“I could probably stand to do it more often,” He jokes, “But I haven’t worn accidentally pink socks in years.”_  
_The kettle whistles, and I place his tea in front of him._  
_I can’t find the words to tell him precisely what I want to, but I settle on, “Thanks for saying something, about Eli.”_  
_“She would have done the same, for me,” He brushes it off._  
_That is true, Eli would go to bat for any of us, but never for herself, “You were right though, that guy should never have asked those things.”_  
_Zach meets my eyes, “There’s been an ongoing, much more explicit, tirade in my head directed at everyone talking about her. Somebody needed to tell the truth.”_  
_“It’s slander, what they’re doing to her,” I wanted to pull the entire magazine rack down at Whole Foods last week, “But she said if she retaliates it’ll only get worse.”_  
_“She’s not wrong. Commenting on your personal life is a trap you make yourself,” He spins his mug around._  
_“Is that why you didn’t respond to anything Maya said about you?”_  
_“It would have only burned me,” Zach’s eyes are downcast._  
_“Why were you on that plane with me, Zach?” I lift myself up to sit on the counter._  
_“Maya found a picture of me kissing someone else.”_  
_“Was it real?” The question is quieter than I expected as it leaves my mouth. I’m not sure I want to know._  
_“Yes,” He looks at me, “I was out, and it was late. The girl said it was her birthday, and all she wanted was a kiss. My mouth was on her cheek,” He makes sure I understand, “She turned her head, while her friend took a picture.”_  
_“Jesus, Zach,” That’s so wrong, for anyone to take advantage like that._  
_“I wasn’t sober,” He’s somehow apologetic about the fan’s actions and Maya’s response, “And it wasn’t the first time.”_  
_“It’s still not okay,” I insist._  
_“It’s just my life,” Zach shrugs, “It doesn’t happen to the other guys. They don’t get themselves in that position.”_  
_“You didn’t ask for that to happen, Zach.”_  
_“No,” He sets my clothes back in the basket, then pushes it gently towards me, “But I asked to be famous, and that’s almost the same thing.”_  
_That’s messed up in so many ways I don’t know where to start, but he looks like a zombie, and I have practice in the morning, so instead of arguing, I pick up my hamper and follow him upstairs._

 _When I go to tell him goodnight after putting my clothes away, he’s already asleep, passed out face down in his bed with all the lights on._  
_I pull his sneakers off, then turn off the lamp, telling him softly the thing I couldn’t admit when he got here._  
_“I’m really happy you’re home.”_

 

Zach.

This close to an album drop, we should just live in the recording studio. There are last minute cuts make and takes to re-do right up to the time we can’t anymore. It doesn’t matter that our flight landed at eleven last night, or that we hadn’t slept for two days before that, we still have to be at the studio ungodly early this morning.  
I’m contemplating drinking coffee straight from the machine, waiting on it to be finished, when Harper stumbles downstairs.  
She’s dressed for practice, and hauling her monster gym bag with her. She tosses it aside to compete her breakfast routine, sitting down beside me on a barstool when I’m finally allowed to pour my coffee.  
I take one sip then force myself not to spit it out, “What is this?”  
“Coffee?” Eli takes a sip, then turns to glare at the coffee maker like it personally betrayed her.  
“Decaf,” Jonah laughs, hovering around her. He tends to do that, plant himself in her orbit and read her well enough to stay out of her way.  
“But,” I whine. I can’t help it. I couldn’t understand how Jonah could drink the stuff when I was fifteen, but I don’t know how to live without it now.  
“I’m allowed one cup,” Eli protests. If I can’t live without it, but I doubt she’d exist without coffee. She likes it as caffeine sludge, and drinks it around the clock.  
“And you’ll want it this afternoon,” Jonah picks up her mug, “This can’t be that bad,” He tries it, and fails to keep the disgust off his face.  
“It’s not good,” Eli says, mournfully.  
Jonah tucks Eli’s flyaway bangs behind her ear, “I hate it when your brother’s right.”  
“Penn?” Harper guesses.  
“Laughed for twenty minutes when I told him I was pregnant, because idea of me giving up coffee is, apparently, hilarious,” Eli pours the remainder in her cup down the sink.  
Harper grins, “That sounds like him.”  
“Speaking of Penn,” Eli fidgets with the toaster, “He wanted to know if you got Merritt to talk. He’s still sulking.”  
“He’s having ex trouble,” Harper hedges.  
“Which one?” Eli takes the butter and cream cheese out of the fridge.  
Harper hesitates, then sighs, “Sam.”  
The toaster dings as Eli asks, “Which Sam?”  
“He has more than one ex-girlfriend named Sam?” I reach for a bagel.  
Eli swats my hand, “No.”  
“He’s got an ex-boyfriend named Sam too,” Harper crunches on her granola.  
She says that like it’s totally unremarkable. Which, of course, it is. Eli’s best friend, Milo, is married to a man, and Brooke’s sister has broken all of the bi-curious hearts in New York City, I’m just not sure how I missed that Merritt has double the dating pool.  
“Huh,” I take the plate Eli passes to me, the bagel now assembled to her standard.  
Eli looks at Harper until she caves.  
“It’s Sam Stevens,” Harper stirs her tea, “Merritt can’t help himself.”  
“Why is he so stubborn?” Eli mutters, taking a bite of her own bagel, and her face goes green before she even swallows.  
Jonah raises one eyebrow, “Hi Kettle, have you met your brother, Pot?”  
Harper snickers. Eli takes two water bottles out of the fridge, “Alright, Skillet," She passes one to Harper, "Remember, you’re on your own tonight for dinner.”  
Jonah suddenly looks sick too.  
“The James’s can’t kill you in public,” Milo tells him, striding into the kitchen and stealing the rest of Eli’s breakfast out from under her.  
“You’re just glad you’re about to be downgraded from their public enemy number one,” Jonah shakes his head.  
Milo shrugs, “Well, I only talked their granddaughter into dancing on the internet. You knocked her up.”  
Eli knocks her hip into his, “Don’t be melodramatic, ‘Lo. I make my own decisions.”  
Jonah smirks at Milo behind Eli’s back.  
“Ready, Hopsy?” Eli grabs Milo’s keys.  
“Yup,” Harper shoulders her duffle, and slams the rest of her tea.  
“USC is on our way to the studio,” I stand up, “Why don’t you ride with us?”  
“Because,” She sashays towards the door, “Milo’s Range Rover had tinted windows, and your car was obviously purchased by a popstar or in a midlife crisis.”  
“Hey!” I sputter. I may have bought the Ashton Martin at nineteen, and spent way too much money on it but, “My car drives like a dream.”  
“I don’t know about that,” Harper winks at me, “Maybe if you let me drive it sometime.”  
Jonah, Milo, and Eli laugh way too loudly for that to be a good idea, but with the way Harper grins at me, I would happily hand her the keys right now.


	7. Wildcat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal Note:  
> I'm sorry this is going up so late!  
> I've been out of town, away from cell service and internet access, all weekend.  
> (N., you were right, seeing fall was worth it, but I'm still cold.)
> 
> I'm adding Chapter 8 tonight too.  
> As always, thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love and support <3

Zach.

The bathroom light is still on when I get home. This is not unusual, because Harper never remembers to turn it off. I’m not sure if that’s more or less annoying than all the moisturizers containing SPF and the multiple types of pain relieving cream she’s covered the space around the sink with.  
So, I don’t think anything of the light pouring out from under the bathroom door when I walk past it, assuming Harper just forgot to turn it off again when she left this morning. I also assume I’m the only one home, because the house was silent when Jonah dropped me off on his way to dinner with Eli, her grandparents, and Milo.  
I’m in the middle of emptying my pockets and changing my shirt when I hear a shriek.  
It makes me jump, then rush into the bathroom to figure out what is going on, without considering the consequences.

I find Harper standing in the bathtub, only wearing her teeny tiny spandex and a tank top.  
“Zach!” She shouts, and I smack my hand over my eyes.  
It doesn’t do much to obscure my vision though, and it only takes me a second to survey the room.  
There’s several empty plastic ice bags on the floor, and the eight inches of water Harper’s in the middle of are more frozen than not.  
“What are you doing?” The question is more than a little judgmental.  
She sighs, “You can put your hand down, Zach. I know you can see me. You’re acting ridiculous.”  
“You want to talk ridiculous, Wildcat?” I focus very hard on looking her in the eyes, and nowhere else, “You’ve turned my bathroom into Antarctica.”  
Harper grins, “It’ll melt.”  
“Sure, but not before global warming kills us all.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I step closer, “Seriously, what are you doing?”  
She bites her lip, then hooks her thumb in one side of her shorts to pull them down an inch, “I twisted my ankle during practice, and landed on my hip.”  
There’s a massive red splotch forming there, “Damn.”  
“I’m on the roster to start tomorrow, in an actual scrimmage,” Harper grimaces, “I can’t afford to let this get worse.”  
“And an ice bath is going to help?” I’ve heard of athletes soaking in ice before, but the most experience I have with that is Jack pouring a bucket of ice on my head for refusing to get out of bed, and that wasn’t really intended to help anything.  
“Some, at least,” Harper looks down at the water, and shivers.  
“Couldn’t you have done this on campus? Doesn’t the university have, like, trainers or something?” This doesn’t feel safe.  
She picks her foot up out of the water, and points to her ankle, “If I show this to my coach, I’ll be scratched tomorrow.”  
There’s a red mark on the left side of her foot too, and her ankle is already swollen, “Okay. How do I help?”  
“You don’t have to,” She starts.  
“I found you screaming in my bathtub. I’d like to help.”  
“I wasn’t screaming.”  
“Hellion,” I shake my head, “Don’t you want to get this over with?”  
Harper gives in, “You can time me. My hip needs to be submerged for ten minutes.”  
“Okay,” I pick her phone up off the sink, and she lowers herself into the water, hands gripping the sides of the tub like a lifeline.  
Harper grinds her teeth, then demands, “Distract me,” staring up at me adorably miserable in a punishment of her own design.  
So I sit down on the edge of the bath and start rambling.  
I keep talking, when three minutes in her teeth start chattering, and after seven minutes when her lips take on a blueish tint.  
She is shaking, by the time her ten minutes are up, and I haul her out of the bathtub by her forearms then pull her against me.  
Harper’s an athlete, and it’s obvious in every line of her body. Her legs are powerful and muscular, there’s clear definition in her abs, and even her forearms are toned, so she’s not exactly a delicate person. She is, however, still small. Harper’s almost short compared to Eli and Angi, maybe five-five at the tallest, which makes it easy to tuck her under my chin.  
She’s kind of perfect, and I would enjoy holding her a lot more if she wasn’t a human popsicle dripping freezing cold water on my feet.  
I pull a towel around her, running my hands up and down her back, trying to warm her up. Harper sinks into me, then mutters against my collarbone, “Do you just hate shirts or something?”  
I laugh into her hair, “I was changing when I heard you scream.”  
“I didn’t scream,” She protests, but doesn’t try to push me away.  
“Sure,” I mock, “You just exhaled so loudly I thought you were getting murdered.”  
Harper does shove me off then, “Go put clothes on, Zach.”  
“I’m only following orders because I need to order dinner,” I tell her as I leave, “Do you want anything?”  
“Carbs,” Harper doesn’t even have to think about her answer, “Lots and lots of carbs.”  
“It’s hot that you know what you want,” I smirk, and she shuts the door in my face.

When the food arrives, Harper’s showered and changed, standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom with her shirt hiked up and her flannel pants barely hanging on the edge of her hipbones. She pokes at the bruise, and I stand in the doorway watching her.  
She has no idea what she’s doing to me.  
“Food’s here,” I swing the bag around, then walk into my bedroom.  
“And where are you taking it?” She follows me, walking gingerly.  
I set the food on the bed, then look at her, “You’re supposed to elevate injuries, kitten. We’re having dinner in bed.”  
Harper looks between me and the mattress, the mattress then me, before she shrugs, and flings herself down on my side.  
“Oh, my God,” She hugs a pillow to her chest, “Why is your bed a cloud?”  
I sit down beside her and start unpacking our meal, “I invested in a good mattress.”  
“Is it made of unicorns and cotton candy?” Her eyes are closed, but she keeps wiggling further into my pillows. My bed is, without a doubt, going to smell like her strawberry conditioner.  
That the idea of strawberry scented bedding doesn’t bother me, says a lot about how much I like her.  
“Something like that,” I throw a pair of chopsticks at her, “Sit up, and put one of those under your ankle.”  
“Bossy,” Harper grins.  
“You like it,” I wink at her.  
She rolls her eyes, “Only when you’re feeding me.”

 

“So,” I point my fork at Harper, when most of the food has been demolished, “Tell me about this scrimmage.”  
She’s in the process of shoving an entire dumpling in her mouth, and doesn’t bother stopping on account of my request. She looks like a chipmunk before she swallows, “What do you want to know?”  
“Start with the basics? I don’t know much about women’s soccer, except that you play it,” I open a soy sauce package with my teeth.  
“Well,” She smirks, “There’s this rectangle of knotted rope between two poles, and you score points by,”  
I pinch her thigh, “I know that much, thank you.”  
“We’re playing Stanford,” She laughs, spinning noddles around her chopsticks, “It’s a pre-season, so Coach says it’s just for practice, but they’re our biggest in state rival, so it’s really for all the glory.”  
Her eyes glow, when she talks about soccer. Her irises are so light blue I could almost be convinced she’s wearing contacts, except there's a crazy kind of depth to them.  
“Is this a thing people will show up to?” I take the box of lo-mien out of her hand.  
“Like to watch?” She questions and I nod. “Some,” She shrugs, “The game’s at eleven, which is pretty early, and it’s women’s soccer.”  
“Which doesn’t have the most followers,” I agree, but it’s still fun to watch.  
“That’s an understatement,” Harper picks up another dumpling, “If fifty people show up tomorrow, that would be a good turn out.”  
“Would you even like crowd though? I hated spectators when I played,” It’s possible that’s because my teammates’ parents were obnoxiously loud, but I mostly remember feeling relieved when we had away games, because fewer people would turn up.  
“I don’t know, Zach,” She picks up the carton of fried rice, challenging me, “Do you like crowds?”  
I understand what she’s saying; her sport against my job is a much closer comparison than my playing verses hers. I consider it, “I like a good audience, but that can be just one person.”  
“That’s my answer too. I’d take one real fan watching over two thousand unenthusiastic spectators any day.”  
It feels like she took those words right out of my mouth. “Starting is still a big deal. Are you nervous?”  
Harper quotes, “Nervous is for the unprepared,” biting the last spring roll in half.  
“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” I laugh, stealing the other half of the spring roll from her, “I still get nervous, and we practice so often I could recite our albums in my sleep,” I toss it in my mouth, “Actually, I probably do.”  
This makes her giggle, “Good to know. I promise I won’t freak out, if I hear singing in the middle of the night.”  
“That was a joke,” I dunk a dumpling in sweet and sour sauce.  
“Are you sure about that?” She spoons fried rice from her chopsticks to her mouth.  
“Yes,” I laugh, “Now, be honest, how nervous are you?”  
Harper shakes her head, then mumbles, “Just, like, this much,” holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.  
I tap my knee against hers, “Nervous is just another word for caring. You’re gonna be great.”  
“My first college game,” Harper sighs, with the kind of genuine wonder most people pretend they’re too cool to experience. I’m glad she doesn’t.  
“Are your parents coming? They’ve got to be so proud.”  
This cracks her up, like the very idea of that is hysterical. “My parents are in Bora Bora, or the Bahamas, or something, and they wouldn’t have come to California for this anyway.”  
“To watch you play soccer?” I look at her with one eye half-closed.  
She pokes around in the noddles again, “They came to a grand total of three of my High School games, and my mom told someone I play defense last month.”  
“That’s…” I don’t know what to say.  
“It’s whatever,” She spears a piece of broccoli, “Colt made it to all of my home games, and Eli never missed a playoff.”  
“But they’re not your parents,” I can’t help it. My mom has flown around the world ten times over to see me perform, and my dad basically put his career on hold to let me build mine. The man gets carsick just looking at a bus, but he still toured with us for two years, so I could have a chance at doing what we do now, “Aren’t parents obligated to be the most supportive?”  
“I was a mistake,” Harper shrugs, “Colton was planned, Alden was an accident, but they never even considered a third kid.”  
The breezy way she talks about that is painful to me.  
“Are you going to eat that?” She stops reaching for the last wonton when she registers the shock on my face, “It’s okay, Zach. It’s not like I ever wanted for anything, they just didn’t have time for me. They still don’t, but it’s not like I miss them. We don’t get along anyway.”  
Because they made you think you’re a mistake, I want to explode. I’ve never met her parents, but I want to scream in their faces. How could they not see how great their daughter is? I’ve known Harper for a month, but I figured that out in our first conversation.  
“You thought about it too long, so this is mine,” Harper decides, snagging the wonton between her chopsticks, “I love carbs,” She sighs, with her mouth full, falling back into my pillows, and I still think she’s really great.

 

 

_Harper._

_It’s after one in the morning when I wake up in Zach’s marshmallow bed. We must have fallen asleep watching The Birds. I force myself up to stumble downstairs for a glass of water, trying not to notice how cute he is when he’s drooling, because that’s just unfair._  
_I’m preoccupied, exhausted, cringing in pain with every step, and not paying attention to my surroundings so it startles me, when I hear voices outside._  
_I recognize them immediately though, Milo and Eli conversing on the other side of the wall. I drift towards the window above the sink unintentionally, and find them curled around each other in a lawn chair._  
_The eavesdropping is unintentional too, but sound carries here._  
_“I don’t know where to begin with this, ‘Lo,” Eli sounds broken._  
_“It’s all baby steps, mi alma,” Milo consoles._  
_“How can I even do that? I’ve never had anyone show me.”_  
_“Hey, hey,” He hushes her, “You have a village, remember? You’ve have me, and you have Jonah, and Jayden, and the Davis’s and the boys, and,”_  
_“None of them are mothers,” Eli sighs._  
_“You’ve got Jonah’s ma.”_  
_“Who is going to hate me.”_  
_“No, she isn’t,” Milo’s voice rises, “Elijah, tonight sucked, but Jonah is so happy, and if I know anything about being a good parent, it’s that’ll be enough for her.”_

 _I decide that’s enough listening to a conversation not meant for me, and start slowly walking back to my room, when Jonah flips the light on in the hall, “Everything alright, Harper?”_  
_“Yeah, I just,” I lift up my water, “Got thirsty, and thought I heard something…”_  
_“Eli and Milo are outside,” He nods._  
_“How’d it go? With the James’s?” I ask, even though I already have a good idea._  
_“Mr. James is thrilled,” Jonah grimaces, “Mrs. James, not so much.”_

_That checks out. The James’s were around for Eli more than my parents ever were for me, but I’ve always got the feeling they think of her like a pretty porcelain doll instead of a real person. It’s disappointing kids and grandkids all around in that neighborhood._

_“She told Eli she was throwing her life away,” Jonah looks torn between furious and sad._  
_“She’s not,” I reply instantly. I’m not sure about much, but I know Eli and Jonah are meant to be together, and I know Eli wants this._  
_He tries to smile, “Thanks. I appreciate that.”_  
_“Get some sleep, Jonah,” I pat his arm on my way up the stairs._  
_“I’ll try. G’night, Harp,” He says behind me, but the light’s still on when I close my door._

_Eli’s alone in the kitchen when I make it downstairs in the morning. Judging by her red cheeks and windswept hair, she and Jonah have only been back from their long run for a few minutes._  
_Eli likes to say the only way she could get me to run fifteen consecutive miles is if there was a soccer ball dangling in front of me like a carrot for a bunny. She and Jonah do it once a week though, because they’re insane._  
_Exercising makes me ravenous, but she’s currently staring at her toast like if she glares at it hard enough it might disappear._  
_“G’morning, E,” I interrupt her._  
_“Hey, Hops,” Eli pushes a lunchbox down the counter towards me, “Water, green juice, granola, and a banana.”_  
_“I’m not five anymore. You don’t have to pack my snacks,” I grin at her._  
_She wrinkles her nose, “Yes, I do.”_  
_“At least we’ve moved on from brown paper bags and glitter pens.”_  
_“There’s a sharpie note on your napkin,” Eli smiles._  
_That she is worried at all, that she might not be a good parent, is ridiculous. “Do you remember when I made the club team?”_  
_“Of course I do,” She drags her finger around the perimeter of her plate, spinning it slowly, “You were so excited you wore your jersey to school under your polo for a week.”_  
_“And my parents never made it to any of my games.”_  
_“They wanted to,” Eli gives them more credit than I do._  
_“But they didn’t,” I shrug, “And you did. You convinced Colt to drive to every single one, with poster-board signs and friends, and always cheered the loudest,” I smile at the memory, “You were almost thrown out of the game I got my first red card.”_  
_“That referee was biased, it was completely undeserved,” Eli lifts one shoulder, unrepentant._  
_“I kicked that girl, while she was on the ground, without the ball,” I laugh._  
_“She was hogging it the entire game,” She defends, but now she’s smirking._  
_I shake my head, “I wouldn’t be here, doing this, if it wasn’t for you.”_  
_“That’s not true,” Eli narrows her eyes, “You belong in cleats, Hopper. You would have found your way to the field, with or without me.”_  
_“I don’t know that I would’ve stayed there,” I pick up my lunchbox, “Knowing that you cared? Knowing that you learned a whole sport you didn’t play for me? That you would be there for all my games? It made me feel important and proved to me that how I played mattered. That kept in the game, even when I wanted to quit,” I tip my head her direction, “And I was just your friend’s kid sister. You’re going to be the best mom, Eli. You’re going to love that baby so ferociously, and show up, passionately, for everything they care about,” I stand up on my toes to wrap my arms around her, “As far as I can tell, that’s what really counts, and you’ve been good at it, for me, since you were fourteen.”_  
_Eli hiccups, “I love you, but I’m going to blame this on the fetus.”_  
_I laugh again, “Okay, I’m gonna go,” I’m not any good at tears._  
_Jonah appears then, because he’s so tuned into her, pulling on her heartstrings tugs At his._  
_Eli gives him a watery smile before he can ask what’s going on, and her dimples lift the concern right off his shoulders. He pulls her into his arms, her skinny frame all wrapped up in him._  
_“I’ll see you later,” I leave Jonah to her emotions, and head towards the door._  
_Behind Eli’s back, he mouths, “Thank you.”_  
_I don’t say anything, because I don’t need to tell him I’d do anything for her. I’m pretty sure he feels the same._

 

 


	8. Kitten

_Harper._  
_“I have roommates, Rubik’s Cube,” I try to explain to Ruby, “I can’t just have people over without talking to them about it.”_  
_She’s currently arguing that I should have the freshman come over to our house after the game. There’s only six of us, but I don’t even know all their names yet. I’m definitely not brining them home with me._  
_“Whoa,” Kennedy blinks up at the stands, “That’s a lot of people for a scrimmage.”_  
_“Um,” I look around the field. She’s right. There’s way more people here than I was expecting, and far too many of them are teenage girls._  
_It takes me half a second to find Zach._  
_I jog his direction without thinking, Ruby and Kennedy on my heels, calling after me, “Where are you going? We’re supposed to be warming up!”_

 _“Zach,” I hiss his name when I get close enough._  
_He looks up from under his ball cap, clearly some misguided attempt at a disguise, “Oh, hey, Heathen.”_  
_“What are you doing here?” I demand, watching the swarms of girls get closer._  
_“Well, I…” He removes his hat to mess with his hair, and all hell breaks loose._  
_Immediately, the people closest to him scream, “Zach!”_  
_“It doesn’t matter, get down here,” I don’t have to tell him twice, he slips under the railing and jumps down next to me on the grass._  
_“Miss,” security approaches us, as I haul him by the arm back towards our locker room._  
_“Trust me,” I tilt my head towards the craziness behind us, “You don’t want him to stay up there.”_  
_I push him into the seat at my cubby once we're inside, “Sit down.”_  
_Zach does as I say. When I turn around, Kennedy is staring at me like she’s never seen me before, and Ruby suddenly looks like she remembers exactly who picked me up at soccer camp three years in a row._  
_“Ladies,” I address the rest of the team still standing around in the locker room, “My roommate, Zach.”_  
_“Zach, my team,” I point at him, “Stay here.”_  
_He holds both hands up, “Whatever you say.”_

_I pray these girls are safer to leave him with than the ones outside, while I step into the hall and dial the number I always use in emergencies._

_“You called Eli?” Zach looks betrayed, watching her stride into the room._  
_“Of course I called Eli, you nimrod,” I shove at him, “You came to a public soccer game without security.”_  
_“You said people don’t usually turn out for these things,” He protests._  
_“Because America’s Heartbreaker doesn’t usually turn up either,” I seethe._  
_Eli’s in front of us then, and despite her casual jeans and Jonah’s hoodie, even her braid looks tense, “Zachary Dean,” She pulls him up into a hug, “You are in so much trouble.”_  
_“Hi, E,” He mumbles into her hair, and I catch the look on the faces of my team, a mix between amusement and amazement._  
_“Let’s go. Jo’s in the car,” Eli takes his hand._  
_He follows her even while whining, “You brought Jonah?”_  
_“You are in All The Trouble, Z,” She shakes her head, “Break a leg, Hops. We’ll be watching,” She meets Zach’s eyes, “At home, on our television, where we aren’t likely to be trampled.”_  
_His cheeks turn even redder than usual._  
_“I’ll make that soup you like for dinner if you win,” Eli bribes me, then decides, “Actually, I’ll make it anyway, for this.”_  
_Zach makes a wounded noise, but he’s smiling._  
_“Thanks, Elijah,” I shake my head, watching them disappear, Zach’s hand still firmly clasped in hers._  
_“Your roommate is Zach Herron?” Someone shouts after the door swings closed, Ruby stands in front of me, outraged, “How could you let me forget your sister is Elijah James?!”_  
_I groan. This is what I was afraid of. I knew it wouldn’t die quietly._

Zach.

Eli weaves through the hallways like she’s been here before, dragging me next to her like a misbehaving child, then freezes at the door to a parking lot.  
One look outside and I understand why; Jonah’s car is parked as close as possible to the entrance, but there’s still at least a dozen people with zoom lenses circling it like hyenas.  
“Fuck,” I cruse, brining my head down onto Eli’s shoulder, “E, I’m so sorry,” I mumble with my forehead still resting there.  
“They’re vultures,” Eli sneers. She’s generally not this mean, but despite having remarkable life, she’s never really seen it that way, and abhors the idea that the public cares about her personal stuff.  
To her, the paparazzi aren’t here to chase a news story, they’re trying to invade of my privacy, which is a permanent black mark in her book.  
The venom in her voice is understandable, but there’s not another way out, “Wanna make a run for it?”  
She nods, “On eight?”  
This is Eli’s idea of being funny, teasing me for once upon a time being frustrated with her for counting our choreography in with ‘five, six, seven, eight’, and how I know she’s not going to fillet me for this when we get home. I’ll get by with a strongly worded lecture in the car.  
“On eight,” I reach for the door.  
“Five, six, seven,”  
I take off before she says eight, and Eli chases after me, laughing.  
We’re going to look terrible in all their photographs, charging out of USC’s sports complex giggling like crazy then diving into Jonah’s car, only for him to speed away like we’re playing Grand Theft Auto.  
It’s worth it though, if it distracts anyone from what I was doing there in the first place.

 

I’ve been properly scolded, by the time we get home, but I still have questions.  
Most importantly, “Why weren’t you going to watch her today, E?”  
A live stream of the game was already playing in our living room when we walked in, Eli’s eyes instantly glued to number ten, “Harper asked me not to.”  
“But why?” Harper adores Eli, she had to want her there.  
“She wasn’t interested in her team ambushing her for information,” Eli bounces on her toes, watching someone in the backfield send the ball flying towards Harper.  
Jonah glances at me, explaining, “Harper hadn’t told them, about living here.”  
“They had to know she doesn’t live on campus,” I’m lost, because it’s not like she could hide that.  
“But she didn’t have to tell them who she lives with,” Eli still doesn’t turn away from the television, “Her coach knew, I’ve met him a handful of times, took her to dinner with him while he was still trying to woo her into signing here, but I don’t think she wanted to tell anyone else.”  
“Why was he trying to woo her?” Nothing about this conversation makes sense.  
“Harper was the number one recruit in the country, Zach,” Jonah brings his brows down, and on the screen, Harper flies towards the goal, fast enough no one can get close to her, then sends the ball soaring in an absolutely impossible shot, landing perfectly into the back corner.

And I get it, finally.  
She’s been holding out on me.  
My eyes are glued on her number for the rest of the game too.

Harper plays soccer like no one I’ve ever seen.  
She’s fierce,  
“Ah,” My breath catches, watching her tumble headfirst to the ground.  
“Get up, Hops, the ball’s still moving,” Eli commands, and somehow, she does.

and vindictive,  
“Did she just?”  
“Elbow that girl in the kidney?”  
Eli smirks, “Harper started for her high school team, all four years, and had the most fouls on that team, all four years.”

and magic.  
“There’s no way that’s going in…”  
“Wait.”  
“She’s on the other side of the center line… Jesus Christ.”

She scores four goals, of the five her team makes to win, and still looks like she could go for another four more when time runs out.  
No wonder she’s so crazy about this.

 

Harper gets home twenty minutes after Jonah and Eli leave to pick up some kind of fancy bread for dinner.  
I don’t know if I should be glad we’re alone for this conversation or not, but she doesn’t even look at me, making a beeline for the fridge.  
“Hi, Terminator,” I edge my way into the kitchen.  
She doesn’t respond, cracking open the lid of her drink.  
“You played really smart today,” I cringe. That sounded better in my head.  
Harper shrugs.  
I blow out a breath, keeping my distance, watching her drain her PowerAid, “How long are you going to be mad at me?”  
Harper gives me an inquisitive look, crushing the bottle.  
“I’m sorry, Buffy,” I take a step closer, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you hadn’t told your team about…” I can’t find the right words to describe exactly what she’d been keeping from them, her, her family, me, “Us. And I had no idea it would get so out of hand. I thought I could just sneak in, watch you play, then come home. Jonah and Daniel go to baseball games all the time, but there’s not an excuse,” I force myself to stop talking.  
“Okay,” Harper tosses the crumpled bottle in the air, then catches it.  
“That’s it? You forgive me?” I take it from her hand.  
“Did you mean to cause a scene?” She tilts her head.  
“No. I swear, I just wanted to support you,” I confess, throwing her bottle into the trash.  
“Then there’s nothing to forgive you for, but I accept your apology anyway,” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, “You’re going to have to make it up to Ruby and Kennedy though, they’re so mad they didn’t get a picture,” She smirks, “I told them you aren’t that special.”  
“Thanks,” The grin I give her in return is wry, “Ruby and Kennedy are Rosemary’s Baby and space buns?”  
“You know what space buns are, but not a pixie cut?” Harper squints at me.  
“My little sister is eleven,” I defend, “Ask me about the latest trends in hair-bows and the most recent collection at Justice.”  
Harper smiles, “Ruby likes to look cute while she tackles people, and Kick’s a goalie, so she has enough to worry about without hair getting in her eyes,” She hops up to sit on the counter, “They’re cool, when they aren’t rendered stupid because of your face.”  
“Um,” It’s my turn to narrow my eyes at her.  
“Please,” She huffs, “Like you don’t know.”  
“Don’t know what?” I lean back against the counter.  
Harper bites her lip, stepping down and into my space, “The effect you have on people.”  
“What effect?” Her proximately makes my voice rasp.  
“I think, maybe, it feels a little bit like this,” Harper plays with the edge of my sleeve, her fingers brushing my bicep. Her smile looks like a dare.  
I take back what I thought last night. She knows exactly what she’s doing.  
The garage door opens then, announcing Jonah and Eli’s return.  
“You’re playing with fire, kitten,” I whisper in her ear.  
“Good thing I’m always cold,” She licks her bottom lip, then takes three steps back before we’re caught.

 

  
When I pick Harper up from her practice Thursday, she’s wearing heels and a dress. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in anything other than sneakers, athletic clothes, or pajamas, and I nearly swallow my tongue.  
She’s so pretty, but more than that, it's like getting a glimpse at who she is in the world outside of soccer.  
Harper’s majoring in business, and today, she looks like a boss.  
She walks into my realtor’s office like she owns the place.  
“Zach,” Brielle calls, jumping up to greet us, then shakes Harper’s hand, before leading us to the back to give us the fact sheets for the properties we're supposed to see today.  
Harper takes one look at them, then pushes the whole stack back towards Brielle, “I’m sorry, but none of these are what Zach’s looking for.”  
Brielle calmly addresses me, “I was under the impression Zach wasn’t sure what he’s looking for.”  
Harper doesn’t budge, “He wants a yard, or a view. Don’t worry about the kitchen, in fact, the less space it takes up the better, but the master bathroom should be huge,” She glances at me, “Also, east-facing with a fire defensible zone is non-negotiable.”  
I followed her up until that last sentence.  
“And, um,” Harper pulls up a map on her phone, “If you could find something within, let’s say, five miles from here?” She points at the street Jonah and Eli’s house is on, “That would be great.”  
There’s a competitive gleam in Brielle’s eye as she ushers us out into the lobby, “Give me a few minutes to pull some more places within your criteria, then I’ll be back.”

I sit down next to Harper on a fancy little sofa, “I thought you didn’t know anything about real estate.”  
“Some of it’s obvious,” She smiles, “Plus, I called Brooke.” 

 

The first place Brielle takes us to is all white.  
The tile, the walls, the trim, the furniture, all of it, is completely white.  
Harper walks around taking it all in critically while Brielle is in the room, but after she leaves, Harper turns to me, “Why does the dining room look like the set of Grey’s Anatomy?”  
“Not a fan of the monochrome?”  
“Too cold,” Harper declares, and we move on.

The second house we see is definitely more colorful. There’s exposed brick everywhere, electric blue wainscoting, and for some reason, sliding barn doors in the middle of the living room.  
“Too hipster,” She decides.

Next we see a studio with a killer view.  
“Too small.”

Then we tiptoe around in a mansion featuring seven bedrooms and a fountain in the driveway.  
“Too big.”

By the time we’re on our way to the fifth showing, Harper is starting to look discouraged.  
I glance over at her from the driver’s seat, “Not as simple as you thought it’d be, huh, Goldilocks?” I gently rib her. I understand her disappointment, I thought I’d find the perfect place on my first try too, and that was three years ago.  
“No,” She admits reluctantly, then sounds confused, “This is our neighborhood.”  
Brielle is turning into the gate house outside our community. We follow her, making a left instead of a right once we’re inside, and continuing down the street to a house I’ve never noticed before.  
I like it instantly.  
There’s a high fence, a privacy hedge, and while the house is painted white brick, the shutters are black.  
In the driveway, I don’t hear anything Brielle says about the interior, because I’m too busy watching Harper fall in love.  
We walk around the house to the backyard, and I swear I can hear her heartbeat speed up.  
This side of the house faces the valley, and at night I’m sure you could see half the city from here, but that’s not what Harper cares about.  
The backyard is exactly the length of a soccer field, and perfectly flat.  
Harper sprints to one end, then back, slowed down by her shoes but unable to help herself with the brightest smile on her face.  
Brielle says, “This is the biggest lot in the neighborhood,” and I don’t need to hear anything else. I’m already sold.

I don’t tell them that though, so we walk through the three bedrooms, the streamlined kitchen and the sunken living room with a projector already installed. Harper makes herself comfortable on the couch, grinning at me when Brielle leaves to get us the information packet for this place, “You can’t have this one, Zach.”  
I fight the urge to smirk back at her, “And why is that?”  
“It’s mine,” She claims, running her hands over the leather on either side of her.  
I laugh, “I’ll be sure to let Brielle know.”  
"I just have to graduate or win gold in Paris first," She sticks her tongue out, “Come on, I want to look at the closets again.”

We spend another hour there, testing the water pressure, playing with the automatic curtains, and climbing up into the attic. I act like I'm undecided, telling Brielle and Harper I need to think about it, but my first impression still feels right when we leave, that this is it. I almost can't believe we found a house I can see myself in, but this is Harper I'm dealing with, and I'm starting to think there's nothing she can't do.

 

 


	9. Double-O-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting Chapter 9 today (Saturday)  
> and Chapter 10 late tomorrow (Sunday)  
> <3 Happy November! (I can't believe I've been posting this series for a year)

Zach.

We’ve been gone for ten days and home for ten hours, when we stumble into Eli’s studio. I have gotten better at a lot of things since being in the band.  
Jetlag is not one of them.  
Our album drops in two weeks, then we’ve got a month of intermittent promotional touring before the US tour officially starts, which means we should probably just set up camp here, because Eli’s going to own every spare second of our time in Los Angeles until then.

At least her studio, this giant old brick warehouse she and Milo converted, is comfortable. The atmosphere is always chill, because her students are so focused on dance they couldn’t care less about us, and we’ve got a room to ourselves practice in the back.  
Jack hangs off my shoulder as we walk inside, yawning his morning breath in my face. I’d shove him off, except he’s warm, and Eli keeps this place freezing.  
She’s in the middle of a class of middle-schoolers, easy to spot standing beside Milo through the glass in the hallway.  
Eli sees us, holds up two fingers, signing that she’ll be just a minute, then pauses their music, “Now, switch.”

  
I notice Harper then.  
She’s wearing a leotard, standing in the back of the room, and glaring at the kid with his hand still on her waist like she’s considering eviscerating him.  
Even in her pretty little ballet outfit, I can see it in her eyes, Harper’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.  
I raise one eyebrow at her, smirking.  
She turns her glare on me, but it's completely harmless when aimed my direction.  
Another boy narrows his eyes at Eli, his hands on his hips, “I’m not a girl.”  
“And I’m not asking you to change your gender, I’m telling you to let your partner lead,” Eli remains impassive.  
“But I always lead,” The kid keeps protesting.  
Eli continues staring at him, “Which is a bad habit.”  
“But,” The boy tries again.  
“No, Felix,” She says with finality.

Eli’s particular brand of dance is all I’ve ever known, her steady insistence that just because everyone else does something one way, doesn’t mean that’s the best way. Hers is the only instruction I’ve had, so I take it for granted that it’s weird to be taught girls can lead. Here it’s normal, she and Milo constantly switch, and that’s how she taught me too.  
This boy must be new if he’s protesting. The rest of Eli’s kids know better.

“Don’t you need to, like, go deal with those guys, Mrs. Marais?” He tilts his head at us, putting the least amount of respect on that honorific as possible.  
There are some teacher’s here who do get addressed like that.  
Eli is not, and has never been one of them.  
Her eyes glint, and she straightens her spine, “Pique across the floor with me.”  
Felix takes a step back, “That’s okay, I…”  
“Now.” There’s absolutely no room for argument in her tone, and he follows her slowly to the back corner of the room.

To give the kid credit, he does keep up, for the first two turns.  
Then he stumbles, trying to keep pace with her, as she spins across the room.  
Eli doesn’t stop until her fingers brush the mirror, “Would you like to try again?”  
He shakes his head.  
“Use your words.”  
“No, thank you, Eli.”  
She taps her knuckles against his forehead, “Now, use your brain, Felix. Would I ask you to do something that would make you a worse dancer?”  
“Never,” He mumbles.  
“Then, switch.”

Milo takes over the class while Eli and Harper grab sweatpants and shoes then lead us down the hall to, quoting that boy, ‘deal with’ us.  
“You wiped the floor with that kid, E,” Jack smirks.  
“Only because I didn’t have to go twice,” Eli lifts her shoulders, “Then I would have thrown up on his shoes, or fallen over.”  
Eli’s the most balanced person I know, “Nah. You would’ve been fine.”  
“It’s true,” She shakes her head, resting her hand on her stomach, “My core is gone,” Eli’s like twenty weeks pregnant now, but she hardly looks it, “For something so small, they’ve destroyed my center.”  
“You just look like you ate too much at breakfast,” Corbyn laughs.  
“Right?” Jack fist bumps him, “Like, I eat a full pizza and look rounder than that.”  
“If you weren’t usually concave, no one would ever know,” Harper agrees.  
“I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,” Eli muses, messing with her sound equipment. Jonah says something in her ear that makes her blush, and I get distracted by Harper jumping around to pull her sweatpants up.  
I smirk, “I didn’t know you dance, Double-O-Seven,”  
“I don’t,” She answers, immediately, “Only, Eli drags me in sometimes for extra footwork.”  
“Hopsy was our first student,” Eli dimples, “Thankfully, not indicative of our teaching skills.”  
Harper laughs, “Colt sent me that video last week.”  
“Do you still have it?” Jonah grins.  
She hands him her phone, and we crowd together, watching a grainy video of toddler-Harper and teenage-Eli spin around.  
They’re wearing matching outfits, toddler-Harper with a lopsided bun and huge blue eyes. You can tell ten seconds into the video, she has absolutely no interest in dancing. Off camera, there’s a masculine laugh, probably Colton, and his voice saying, ‘I think she only likes the jumps’. Teenage-Eli sighs, but scoops toddler-Harper up, ‘You’re just a my little bunny, aren’t you, Hopper?’ They giggles and the video ends.  
“You couldn’t have been any cuter,” I smile at Harper.  
She kicks me, but not hard.  
“You should see her soccer pictures, her socks came up past her knees,” Eli beams.  
“Okay. That’s enough embarrassing childhood revelations for this morning,” Harper rolls her eyes, “I need to get going, I’m supposed to meet Kennedy and Ruby in an hour.”  
“You should invite them over,” I rush out, then when she look at me, I keep going, “You said I owed them. Get them to come to breakfast on Sunday, everyone will be there, and Eli makes a mountain of food anyway.”  
“I don’t...” She hesitates.  
“Hey, E?” I get Eli’s attention.  
She lifts her head up from fidgeting with our microphones next to Daniel, “Yes?”  
“Harper should invite her friends over for band-fam-brunch, right?”  
“If she wants too,” Eli looks at Harper.  
“What about Rory?” Harper asks.  
I’m probably too proud of the fact that everyone but Jonah is calling the baby that.  
“Inevitably, people will find out, but these are your friends, Hops, I doubt they’d talk about us if you asked them not to,” The implication that if they do, they shouldn’t be her friends, is clear.  
Eli’s right though, even after I caused chaos at their scrimmage, none of them spoke to the press. Harper shakes her head, “No, they wouldn’t.”  
“Invite them over on Sunday, then, if you’d like to,” Eli goes back to fixing the controls on another piece of equipment, “It would be nice to meet them before the dorms open, and your schedule picks up.”  
“That’s two weeks, right?” Jonah picks up a water bottle.  
Harper nods, and I whistle, this summer is flown by.  
“That happened quick,” Jonah voices my thoughts.  
Jack pats his back, “You’re just surprised because you aren’t used to people moving out, after they move in with you.”  
“Thanks, bro,” I reply, sarcastically.  
“Anytime,” Jack blows me a kiss.  
“I better go,” Harper laughs, “Bye, guys.”  
“Eli’s going to torture us, and you’re abandoning me,” I pout at her.  
“Eh,” Harper smirks, unaffected, “At least she doesn’t make you wear tights.”  
She looks me up and down, and I consider telling her I’d wear tights, if she’d stay.  
I think she knows it too, because her eyes are laughing as she walks away.

 

 

 

_Harper._

_“Hey, Mer,” I pick up my phone from the pile of laundry in the center of my bed. Kennedy and Ruby are supposed to be here in twenty minutes, there’s a bunch of voices echoing up from downstairs, and I’m still in my pajamas, “How’s Indiana? Homesick yet?”_  
_Merritt doesn’t bother greeting me or answering my questions before launching into, “If a guy sends you a muffin basket, he’s in love with you, yeah?”_  
_“Um,” I try not to laugh, “There’s no note?”_  
_“It just says, ‘From Sam’,” Merritt reads, and I can’t help laughing._  
_“Why didn’t he just send flowers? You like flowers,” He’s the only college athlete I know that keeps houseplants._  
_“I don’t think he knows that,” He sighs._  
_“You should talk him.”_  
_“That’s an idea,” Merritt says it like it’s obvious, and still obviously wrong, “And how exactly is that working out for you, with Zach?”_  
_“Fine,” I pull my shirt over my head._  
_“So you’re done being all timid and shit?”_  
_“Excuse me?”_  
_“Please,” He doesn’t pretend to hide the amusement in his tone, “We both know that's just an act, and you might be extra lucky, Princess, but you're really bad at poker._ _So?” He presses._  
_I settle on, “I don’t know, maybe,” and Merritt laughs again._  
_“Kid isn’t going to know what hit him.”_  
_“He’s older than you.”_  
_“By like two months,” He protests._  
_“Let’s get back to your situation on Drury Lane,” I smirk._  
_He groans._  
_“Just talk to him,” I grab a pair of leggings, and sloppily make my bed._  
_“But, see?” Merritt’s voice is already giddy at whatever joke he’s about to make, “We’re so much better at other things.”_  
_“Ew,” I grimace, “That’s gross.”_  
_“Like you aren’t going to jump Herron the second you can,” He huffs._  
_“And you enjoy that mental picture?”_  
_Merritt gags, “Point proven.”_  
_“Call Sam, Mer.”_  
_“I’ll think about it.”_  
_Someone starts pounding on his door, calling out, “Move it, Kelley. We’re gonna be late.”_  
_“I’ve got practice,” Merritt explains._  
_“I’ll talk to you later,” If today goes horribly, at least he’ll find it funny._  
_“See you soon, Prin.”_  
_“What?”_  
_“Never-mind, don’t worry about it. Bye, Harper!” He hangs up on me, and I shake my head. He is such a weirdo._

_When I make it downstairs, Daniel and Angi are camped out in the living room with Jonah, and Zach is keeping Eli company in the kitchen, picking out songs from her broadway playlist and sliding around in his socks._  
_He’s wearing socks, but no shirt, of course, because he’s terrible._  
_“Good morning, Hopsy,” Eli sees me first._  
_“Mornin’, Katniss,” Zach smirks._  
_“G’morning,” I go for the kettle, but he stays directly in my path. “Zach,” I scowl, but that only makes his smile wider._  
_Eli glances over at us, then commands, “Come stir, Z.”_  
_He slides over to the stove next to her, lifting the wooden spoon out of her hand._  
_She starts, “Remember, counter clockwise,”_  
_“From the outside of the pan,” He finishes her sentence, “I’ve made the grits before, E.”_  
_“And yet, you still call them ‘the grits’,” Eli knocks her hip against his, striding back towards her cutting board._

_Zach is actually helpful, stirring when Eli tells him to, and distracting me by mouthing lyrics into his spoon like a microphone whenever her back is turned._

_The way he mouths, ‘You’re like me, you’ve never been satisfied’, makes my stomach flip in ways it’s just too early to scrutinize._

_Ruby calls me from outside our gate, “I think we’re at the right house? The security guy let us in like you said he would, but I can’t see a thing from up here.”_  
_“That’s kind of the point,” I tell her, making my way out of the kitchen, buzzing them in from the front door, then meeting them in the driveway._  
_Neither Ruby nor Kennedy are dressed as casually as I am, but they’re not made up like they’re going out either, so I don’t roll my eyes too hard._  
_“Oh, my god,” Ruby stands still in the bend of the driveway, staring at the house with awe._  
_I jog up to pull her out of the road, “It’s just a house. They’re just people, please don’t make it weird.”_  
_Kennedy isn’t frozen, but she’s gone completely mute._  
_“Relax. I promise, they don’t bite,” I look between them, “Imagine them in their underwear if you have too.”_  
_Ruby narrows her eyes at me, hissing, “That’s the issue, HD, I’ve been doing that for years.”_  
_Zach pulls open the front door then, thankfully having found a shirt to save the last sliver of my sanity. It’s more than likely stolen from Jonah’s closet since it’s too big in the shoulders, but somehow, that only makes it look better on him._  
_“Hi,” He grins, “Ruby and Kennedy, right? It’s good to meet you outside your locker room.”_  
_Kennedy makes a sound which comes out a little like a ‘meep’, Ruby half-gasps, “He knows our names,”, and I wonder again why I thought this was a good idea._  
_“I’ve seen the bruises you’ve left on my Troublemaker, too,” Zach winks, “We’ve got a decent yard. We should play after we eat.”_  
_“Hey, bro. Jonah wants,” Daniel comes outside looking for Zach then, pausing when he sees the girls, “Oh, hey. You didn’t say your friends were here, Harper,” He extends his hand towards them, “I’m Daniel.”_  
_“I know,” Ruby answers instantly, and I pinch her. “I mean,” She corrects, “It’s nice to meet you?”_  
_This finally shakes Kennedy out of her shock, “I’m Kennedy,” She shakes his hand, “That’s Ruby.”_

 _Daniel, who is an eternal ray of sunshine, makes them comfortable in a way I couldn’t, and we’re finally moving towards the house when Corbyn pulls up._  
_Brooke, Jack, and Christina are with him, all still wearing their pajamas._  
_Christina is cradling something white and fuzzy when she steps out of the car, then she sets it down in the driveway to shut her door. The dog takes off Zach’s direction, and I definitely don’t squeal with Ruby over the insane adorableness that is Zach Herron letting a fifteen-pound-puppy knock him over. That definitely doesn’t happen._  
_The dog is trying to lick every inch of his face when Christina calls for it, “Coco.”_  
_It’s suddenly a little white blur running back to Christina’s side, it’s funny curly tail wagging a million miles an hour._  
_“I thought your engagement puppy’s name was Coconut?” Ruby asks, then turns bright pink._  
_I thud my head into her shoulder, “And I thought this was going so well.”_  
_Zach laughs, but kindly. I still don’t pick my head up._  
_“Wait, engagement puppy?” Kennedy asks._  
_Christina laughs, but in a nice way too, “She was a bribe.”_  
_“If you had just said yes, the first twelve times I asked, I wouldn’t have had to resort to bribery,” Corbyn protests, and I think that pretty much sums up their entire relationship._  
_“I wasn’t thrilled about moving to California,” Christina explains, “and wouldn’t let him design a ring I have to wear forever, so,”_  
_“Engagement puppy,” Corbyn scratches it behind its ears._  
_“Coconut is her full name,” Christina smiles at Ruby, “She just gets called everything else.”_  
_“Is breakfast almost ready? I’m starving,” Jack throws his arms around Zach’s shoulders, “Dude, you smell like bacon.”_  
_“Eli let me flip it, and… I forgot I was supposed to watch it,” He shakes Jack off, jogging back inside the still open front door._  
_“It better not be burnt, Zach!” Jack calls after him, “I’ve been dreaming about this for two weeks!”_  
_Jonah appears in the doorway then, one side of his mouth quirked up, “Do any of you want to come inside? Or are we air-conditioning the whole neighborhood now?”_  
_“Right,” Corbyn pats his shoulder, ducking inside first, “Gotta conserve the planet, since we can’t move to Mars yet.”_  
_Everyone else files inside behind him, and Kennedy turns to whisper to me, “Is this,” she waves towards their backs, “normal?”_  
_“Moderately managed mayhem?” I push Ruby towards the door, “Yes. Just wait until Eli announces brunch is ready. They turn into monsters with waffles.”_

_Zach coerces everyone, except Eli and Christina, into playing soccer in the backyard after we’re finished with the dishes. Another net had mysteriously arrived at our house yesterday, so I’m pretty sure this was always his plan._  
_He suggests playing guys against girls, to which Jack complains loudly, “It’s like you want to lose, dude.”_  
_“That’s fine by me,” Kennedy stretches her arms above her head, “Just as long as HD and Ruby are on the same team.”_  
_“Why’s that?” Zach’s face is too curious._  
_“Because,” Kennedy smirks, “If they kill each other, my job gets harder, and we have a game Tuesday.”_  
_Ruby snorts, “Girls versus guys it is.”_

 _Zach and I face off, leaning towards each other in the center of the yard._  
_“You’re sure about this?” I give him one last chance to back down._  
_He smirks, “Bring it on, Torrance.”_  
_“I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified by that reference.”_  
_“Can I vote impressed?”_  
_I grin, “I don’t know. Are you implying I look like Kirsten Dunst?”_  
_“No, you’d be Missy,” Zach bounces on the ball of his feet._  
_I look at the sky, “You’re too much, Zach.”_  
_He pulls on my ponytail, “I think you can handle it.”_  
_“Quit flirting and toss the ball up already,” Ruby hollers, and both our cheeks go red._

 _I steal the ball from him easily, then take off towards our goal, passing it to Angi. By the time she’s kicked it back to me, Zach’s attempting to play defense._  
_He’s not terrible, sticking close to me and keeping up with my pace, until he gets just close enough, then I let my foot slip._  
_“You tripped me!” Zach yells, hilariously outraged on ground behind me._  
_“Don’t sound so shocked,” I don’t even turn around, “You were in my way!”_

 _Our game gets brutal after that, all elbows and laugher and grass stains._  
_Christina breaks it up with the score at three to one, looking us over, sighing, “I’m tempted to spray every one of you down with the hose before Eli sees you.”_   _Corbyn snags her around the waist, rubbing his muddy face against hers, and her fake disappointment melts into laugher too._

 _Zach knocks his shoulder against mine, still smirking._  
_I shove his face away, instead of kissing him, because I have self-control._

 

_I have to kick the ball away though, when he starts juggling it on his knees, because I might still have self-control, but not that much._

_It's really not fair for him to be that hot, and good at my sport._

 

 

 


	10. Kicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting Note:  
> Text messages are formatted like iMessages in this chapter,  
> Harper's appear on the right, Zach's on the left. 
> 
> I'm open to suggestions if this is super confusing!  
> <3

_Harper._

_Zach messages me on the day I move into my dorm. I know it’s from him, not because I have his number, but because no one else would text me;_

_‘hey kicker’_  
_‘apples or oranges’_

 _‘Zach’_  
_‘how did you get my number?’_  
_I reply, not because I wouldn’t have given it to him, but because I know I didn’t._

_‘eli leaves her phone everywhere, and her passcode is too easy’_

_‘I don’t think the strength of her passcode is a good defense for stealing, Z’_

_‘i answered your question’_  
_‘so’_  
_‘apples or oranges’_

_‘Oranges?’_

_‘k’_

_One of those edible arrangements with chocolate covered strawberries, pineapples cut into shapes, and oranges arrives at my dorm an hour later. The card reads, ‘I hope your new roommates are half as cool as I am’, with no signature, but I don’t need one to guess who it’s from._  
_He got them to put it in a vase painted like a soccer ball._

_‘I didn’t give you my address either’_  
_‘Should I be concerned you’re stalking me?’_

 _‘…’_  
_‘just eat your oranges, furiosa’_  
_‘don’t want you to get scurvy’_

 _‘Thanks, Z’_  
_It’s chocolate fueled courage mixed with exhaustion from carrying a thousand boxes up three flights of stairs that makes me say it, even if it’s true;_  
_‘I miss you’_

 _Zach responds instantly,_  
_‘i miss you too’_

_The problem with Zach having my phone number and address is that it apparently opened a floodgate for him to text me around the clock, and send me packages almost everyday. I'm on a first name basis with everyone that works in our mailroom, and all the security guards at the front desk._  
_He just keeps ordering random stuff off amazon, all kinds of food, and twice now, posters of himself, to be delivered to my dorm room._

 _‘Z’_  
_I attach a picture of the twenty boxes of PopTarts covering my bed. I keep both posters in frame, because those feel like a game of chicken I’m not afraid to win, even if Ruby took one look at them on my wall and laughed so hard she rolled around on the floor._  
_‘You can’t keep doing this’_  
_‘I’m never going to be able to eat this many’_

 _‘don’t lie, lara croft’_  
_‘i’ve seen you eat an entire box in one sitting’_

 _‘There were extenuating circumstances’_  
_‘I skipped lunch’_

_‘you literally smacked my hand down when i tried to take one’_

_‘That was an accident?’_

_‘like when you stabbed me with a fork for trying to take a bite of your brownie?’_

_‘Never get between a girl and her chocolate’_  
_‘…’_  
_‘I like food, okay?’_

 _‘you’re welcome’_  
_He sends me a picture of half his face, the edge of his real smirk showing, not the open mouthed way he poses himself in pictures, but the genuine way he smiles when he’s happy._

_‘come downstairs’_

_Zach texts me at a quarter past six, while I’m drying my hair with a towel, waiting for Kennedy to call me so I can meet her the dinning hall for dinner._

_Overall, spending the summer in Los Angeles has made this adjustment easier. I don’t have a terrible amount of work for my classes yet, and practice is mostly the same as it has been for the last three months, just happening earlier and later in the day._  
_I have the best roommates too, Ruby, Kennedy and I lucked into one of the only triple rooms in our building, but I still miss living with Eli, more than I thought I would._  
_I still see her every couple of days, and she constantly reminds me my room at her place is there for me whenever I want it, but I’ve only taken her up on that one weekend, when everybody else in town, because as much as I love her, the best part about living with her was being a part of that. It wouldn’t the same waking up without at least one random member of the band sleeping on the sofa, Eli talking one of the girls into going to the studio with her, and Zach doing everything possible to get in the way of me making tea._

 _‘I’m wearing Pokémon pajamas’_  
_‘This better be good’_

_I don’t tell him was planning to wear them to dinner, since in college, no one cares about what they look like, especially not me after two three-hour practices in one day that left my arms feeling like jello, because he doesn’t need to know that._

_“Hi Pikachu,” Zach smirks, leaning against the passenger door of Jonah’s car. It’s slightly less ostentatious than his, a black electric jaguar SUV, but it’s still out of place in my dorm parking lot._  
_“Zach,” I cross my arms, instead of throwing myself into his, “What are you doing here?” He’s supposed to be in Texas, maybe, doing album stuff._  
_He holds up a bandana, “It’s a surprise.”_  
_“I hate surprises,” I squint at him, “And you want to blindfold me?”_  
_Zach’s smirk softens, “Do you trust me?”_  
_I drop my arms, shrugging, “I guess, and if you kill me I have an excuse to miss practice tomorrow.”_  
_“You’re something else, you know that, Eevee?” He laughs, carefully tying the bandana around my head, then gently guiding me into the car._

 _Zach talks, the entire ride, rambling nonstop. It’s cute enough that I don’t try to stop him. When we get wherever it is he’s taking me, twenty minutes later, he tosses the keys at someone while helping me out of the car._  
_“Almost there,” He spins me with his hands on my shoulders, “Up a couple steps.”_  
_At the top of a short staircase, Zach unties my blindfold._  
_I blink a couple times, adjusting to the light, and the unexpected people standing right in front of me._  
_“Why are we on a plane?” Like I always have, I look to my big brother first for answers. Eli’s tucked under his arm, Alden smiling manically behind them, with Jonah, Penn, Merritt, Kennedy, Ruby, Corbyn and Christina grinning in their seats._  
_“Surprise!” Alden is nine years older than I am, but he jumps up and down like a kid on Christmas morning._  
_“We’re going to Vegas!” Merritt can’t contain himself either._  
_“What?” I blink again._  
_“You only turn eighteen once,” Eli starts._  
_“It was going to be a Kelley-Davis road trip,” Colton shakes his head._  
_Eli shrugs, “Then it spiraled.”_  
_“I wanted to invite your boyfriend,” Colt narrows his eyes, “But Eli told me you broke up with him.”_  
_“A year ago,” I scoff._  
_“I liked Collin,” He admonishes._  
_“His name is Cooper.”_  
_“Same difference.”_  
_“We invited Ruby and Kennedy instead,” Eli purposefully steps on his foot._  
_“Surprise?” Zach says into my ear, putting his hands back on my shoulders._  
_“Happy Birthday, Hops.” It’s the shy way Eli dimples that has me launching myself at them, wrapping my arms around her and Colton at the same time._  
_All my life, it never mattered that my parents couldn’t make time for me because I had the two of them, always there and willing to do anything for me, so it’s pretty fitting to celebrate this with them._  
_“I just thought we were doing dinner tomorrow,” I mumble against them._  
_“Like we could be so boring,” Colton chuckles._  
_Merritt decides to join our hug then, and the aisle quickly becomes a tangle of pretty much everyone I like most in the world._

 _We’re thirty minutes into our flight, and I’m still opening and closing my window. I’ve never been in a private plane before. I almost wish the trip was longer, just so I could explore more of it._  
_“Wedding planning is the worst,” Christina groans, frustrated, in her chair in front of me._  
_“You know,” Corbyn rubs his palms together, “If the florist,”_  
_“It’s the caterer,” Christina corrects._  
_“If the caterer is so annoying, we are on our way to Las Vegas,” He says, smugly._  
_“We’re not eloping in Nevada,” Christina sighs._  
_Jonah, from his seat next to Zach, turns towards them, “My parents got married in Vegas, and it worked out for them.”_  
_“And it would save us thousands,” Corbyn protests._  
_I can hear Christina smacking his arm, “We’ve already sent out save-the-dates.”_  
_“Just saying,” Corbyn laughs, “I’d marry you right now if you’d let me.”_  
_“And incur the wrath of my entire big fat Italian family?” Christina laughs, exasperated._  
_Corbyn swallows audibly, “We should wait. We should definitely wait.”_  
_“Speaking of your parents,” I look at Jonah, “How did they react?” Eli told me over lunch on Monday that they were telling them about the baby this week. She said she wasn't scared, but I know she was nervous._  
_Jonah smiles, “My dad called it fate, and they both cried.”_  
_“Timothy is one of the sweetest, gentlest people on the planet, and Carrie’s one of the strongest,” Eli dimples, in the chair across from him because she, Jonah, Colton, and Zach took the four seats that face each other, “We’d forgotten she was pregnant with Jonah’s brother, when they got married thirty years ago, so Timothy really liked the symmetry in this. He said it was supposed to be. It was nice.”_  
_“So,” My clueless oldest brother has to ask, “Gi and Mr. James are still pissed at you?”_  
_Eli shakes her head, but doesn’t lose her dimples, “Do you want to know what Gigi decided?”_  
_Colt grins in his seat next to her, “Yes.”_  
_“I should have our marriage annulled, because if I begged enough, you’d probably take me back,” Eli manages to finish the sentence solemnly, then the two of them snicker. It's not really a secret that her grandparents and my parents thought their breakup was temporary, even though it's been more than six years._  
_Colton tries to act earnest, “She knows I could provide for you, Baby.”_  
_Alden looks between Colton, who’s laughing again, and Jonah, asking “How have you not knocked him out yet?” because my brothers are constantly finding new and creative ways to out-awkward each other._  
_“It is, sort of, funny,” Jonah allows, taking Eli’s hand, “but she can laugh at whatever she needs to, to get through this, because I know what she’s sacrificing to give this to me,” He pulls her across the space between their seats, then down into his lap, “and I’m incapable of feeling anything less than so fucking grateful,” He places his hand over her bump, then leans his head against hers, still talking to Alden, "Plus, Eli can take care of herself, and I make more in a day than Colt does in a year," Jonah smirks, and that part of his answer makes Eli smile._  
_There’s a minute when no one talks, then Penn complains, “Dammit, Jonah, now I’m a little bit in love with you.”_  
_Zach laughs so hard he snorts._

 

 

Zach.

 

After we arrive at the hotel, ushered in the back entrance and up to the top floor, Christina takes control of organizing everyone for dinner. She shoves all the girls into one of the bedrooms in our suites, and then releases them back into the living room one by one after she’s finished with them.  
Harper is her last victim, escaping ten minutes before our reservation, with her face made up and hair blow-dried, in a tiny red dress and heels.  
She is stunning, and the assembled Kelley and Davis brothers standing by the window open their mouths at the same time.  
Harper holds up her hand, “The first one of you to tell me to go put more clothes on,” She continues looking through her bag, addressing them with calm certainty, “Gets their jaw broken.”  
Their mouths snap shut.  
“Why did we think teaching her to throw a punch was a good idea?” Alden muses, and Merritt fist bumps him.  
“You look great, Hopsy,” Eli ignores them, “Letting Christina shop for you was the right decision.”  
“Letting me shop is always the right decision,” Christina declares.  
Corbyn puts his arm around her, “I love your confidence, babe.”  
“We’re going to be late for dinner,” Jonah puts his hand on Eli’s lower back, and Harper links arms with Kennedy and Ruby, striding out after them.  
Merritt smacks a hand on my back, when we’re the last two still inside, “Man, she’s going to eat you alive,” He shakes his head, pushing me towards the door, “Just, try not to let it happen this weekend.”  
That’s probably solid advice, even if it’s from someone Harper keeps calling ‘Muffin’.

 

We end up in the nightclub attached to the restaurant inside the hotel after dinner.

The place we’re staying is easily my favorite in Las Vegas. It’s huge and clean, with a literal canal full of gondolas and lined with shops running through it. There’s also a dozen pools, two spas, and great security.

The nightclub here is dark, weirdly lit, and exactly the kind of place we can usually get away without being recognized in, but Jonah and Eli still go back to our suites without us. Eli claiming exhaustion from making a human, and Jonah not bothering with an excuse, because he can’t take his eyes off her long enough to come up with one.

Harper, Christina, Kennedy and Ruby disappear into the crowd to dance before we’ve even got a table, leaving the rest of us to follow the hostess past petal filled bathtubs and the DJ.  
We end up in booth tucked in the corner, with a good view of the dance floor, but out of the way enough for Corbyn and I to stay hidden.  
The girls check in with us periodically, dancing over and stealing drinks off the table I pretend not to notice. Harper’s careful, but I still catch her sipping from Merritt’s glass more than once.

The other guys start to bail out after a few songs. Colton’s the first to vanish, telling his brother not to wait for him, then making his way to talk to some girl upstairs. Penn leaves next, hauling an inebriated Alden with him, and collecting Ruby and Kennedy on their way out, apparently having noticed how many men had been buying them shots tonight too. Harper had refused their offers, and refuses to leave, choosing to sway with Christina in the middle of the floor instead.

Merritt, Corbyn, and I are the only ones left when Christina and Harper come back to the table again.  
“Come out there with me,” Christina half-asks, half-demands Corbyn.  
He caves immediately, but tells her, “Just one song,” while she drags him away.  
“Muffin?” Harper grins at Merritt.  
He rolls his eyes at her, but looks to me before agreeing.  
When I shrug, he lets her lead him closer to the speakers.

They dance together like they’re in sixth grade, twelve inches of space between them, screaming at each other over the music.  
When the song ends, Merritt says something that makes Harper laugh, then takes off towards the exit.

 

Harper drifts my direction, smirking at me, like she knows my attention belongs entirely to her.  
“Zach.”  
“Demon,” I tease.  
“Dance with me?”  
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I tell her honestly.  
“Please?” She bats her eyelashes.  
“I’m toxic, Kitten. If someone takes a picture, or,” There’s a lot of possible ways we could get caught, and all of them end with bad press for her.  
She stands up straighter, “Is there someone you’d rather dance with?”  
“What?” I ask even while I answer, “No.”  
“Do you think we're going to be one-night thing?” Harper dares me with her eyes.  
“No,” I am incapable of lying to this girl, “I hope not.”  
“Then come dance with me,” She smiles at me again. When I hesitate, she laces our fingers together, “We don’t have to figure out all the plays tonight, Z. We can talk about where the goalposts are, and how much defense we need later,” Her words are soccer laced innuendo and emotionalism, “Those things don’t matter so much to me, as long as I know we’re on the same team.”  
I stand up, and she doesn’t move back, so we’re millimeters apart, “And are we on the same team, Davis?”  
Harper bites her lip, reciting half my answer back to me, “I hope so, Herron.”

I let her take me out into the dance floor, because that’s the crux of it, isn’t it?  
Maybe we don’t need to have all the answers, as long as we’re both after the same thing.

We move together, her body perfectly in rhythm with mine, until she starts to yawn.  
“Alright, Catwoman,” I pull her towards the door, everyone else in our group long gone, “Time for bed.”  
Harper lets me lead her out of the club, around the casino and up to our suites. I take her to her room, and despite my better judgment, sit down on her bed when she points a finger at me and tells me to, “Stay.”

She comes out of the bathroom, wearing only a too big t-shirt, her makeup gone and hair pulled up in a messy bun, and I suggest, “North by Northwest?” instead of all the other things I’d like to do with her, because just being with her is enough for tonight.  
Harper’s asleep, within the first hour of the film, her limbs wrapped around me like an octopus.  
I try to leave when it’s over, attempting to untangle myself from her, but she fights me, holding me even tighter.  
I catch the edge of her smile against my shirt, “I should go back to my room.”  
“No,” She mutters, not bothering to lift up her head.  
“You’re going to get me in trouble.”  
“Go to sleep, Zach.”  
“You’re a bad influence.”  
“I’m sleeping.”  
“Do you regularly talk in your sleep?”  
“Goodnight, Zach,” She buries her face further into my chest, and I stay, because the most beautiful interesting person I’ve ever known wants me to, and I never really want to leave her anyway.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal Note:
> 
> I'm sorry this is late (again!)  
> I had a migraine last night, and couldn't finish uploading it <3


	11. Chick Norris

Zach.

Harper sleeps like the dead, so it’s easy to untangle myself from her when she’s actually dreaming, but impossible to wake her up.  
“Come on,” I tug her blankets off after I'm already dressed, “Get up.”  
“Zach,” She whines, curling herself into a ball, “Give ‘em back.”  
“No.”  
“Zach.”  
“Rocky.”  
“It’s still dark,” Harper opens her eyes just enough to glare at me.  
“I know,” I grab her ankle and pull it towards me to wrestle her sock on.  
“Why are you doing this to me?” She acts like I’m cutting her foot off.  
I smirk, “It’s a surprise.”  
“I hate surprises,” She did tell me this yesterday, but I’m chose to ignore it, “Especially at,” She looks at the time on the alarm clock, “Four in the morning,” She kicks me in earnest with her other foot, “Zach!”  
“Don’t be such a baby,” I grab her leg to make her stop hitting me, and put a sock on that foot too.  
“What about Kennedy and Ruby?” She tries, “I can’t just disappear on them.”  
I laugh, “Did you see how much they drank last night? It would take heavy machinery to get them out of bed before noon, and I’ll have you back by then, I promise,” I shove her sneakers on, “But we have to go now.”  
Harper pouts at me, adorably grumpy.  
I ignore it, grabbing her hands and hauling her out of bed. When I’m at the door without her behind me, I turn around, “You can bring a pillow.”  
She snags one off the bed, hugs it to her chest then stomps towards me, still playing mad.  
She's up though, so I grin, all the way down to the valet.

Harper’s frown vanishes when she sees the car they bring around for us. I didn’t bother trying to get anything specific this last minute, but she’s clearly impressed with the Porsche. It is a pretty car.  
I jump in front of the valet, when he goes for the passenger door, opening it instead, and bowing towards her.  
Harper smiles, just a little bit, when she climbs inside, running her fingers over the dash.  
“Do you trust me?” I lean over her.  
She blinks, “I thought we established that yesterday.”  
“Just making sure,” I kiss her forehead, then bounce back to shut her door.  
I thank the valet, tip him generously on the off chance his discretion can be bought, and jog around to the driver’s side.

I can't quit smirking, and Harper falls asleep again before Las Vegas even disappears in my rear view mirror.

 

It’s still dark, and we’re the only car in the parking lot when we reach our destination.  
I turn off the engine, then shake Harper’s shoulder, “Time to wake up, Aurora.”  
While I grab the backpack the concierge packed out of the backseat, Harper studies the parking lot, “Where are we?”  
“You’ll see,” I step out of the car, messing with a flashlight.  
I have it on by the time I open her door, “Are you coming?”  
“You know I was only kidding about you murdering me, right?” She squints.  
“Let’s go, Chick Norris,” I offer her my hand, “I promise I’m not going to kill you.”  
She groans, but takes my hand, then steals the flashlight from me.  
At the start of the trail, I direct her to Observation Point, and she nods, ties her shirt up, then takes off.

This path is more of a climb than hike, but Harper is an athlete, and none of it slows her down, even in the dark. By the time I’m sweating and cursing whoever invented Spandex, because I can’t seem to focus on the scenery with her in front of me, she’s not even slightly out of breath. I thought I was in shape, but I’m going to have to start working out everyday to keep up with her.

In the last turn before the summit, I snag the back of her tee shirt, “Turn the flashlight off.” Daylight’s steadily increased in during the last ninety minutes of our hike, and this is the spectacular part. I want her to have the full experience.   
Harper switches it off, and I reach down to hold her hand.  
When we walk out onto the overlook, her jaw falls open.

There really aren’t words for it.

Harper lets go of me, moving towards the cliff with a kind of recklessness that makes me nervous. She sits down, getting even closer to the side to dangle her feet over the edge, without ever looking back.

It takes me a minute to work up the courage to follow her, pulling the thermos and our breakfast out of the backpack, then carefully inching my way to sit down beside her.  
I hand her a pastry, “They didn’t have PopTarts.”  
Harper looks at me, awed, “Zach, this is…”  
“Happy Birthday, Kitten,” I rest my knee against hers, smiling.   
She bites her lip, her cheeks pink under her freckles, then rests her head on my shoulder, “Why are you so good to me?”  
Because you were good to me first.  
Because you never expect it.  
Because you always reciprocate.  
Because this is the kind of thing you want from me, my time, my attention, and never my fame.  
Because it’s scary, the lengths I’m realizing I would go to get you to smile at me like that.  
“Because I like you,” I decide on the simplest answer.  
“Well, that’s good,” She mumbles around half her strawberry-danish, “Because I like you too.”

It was absolutely worth driving two hours in the dark just to hear her say that. 

 

 

“Excuse us,” The woman’s voice behind us makes me freeze.  
We’re back in the parking lot, so close to the car and escaping unnoticed, when she calls out.  
Harper plasters on a smile, and I attempt one too, then turn around.  
“I’m sorry,” The mother who interrupted us has a hand on each of her kids’ shoulders, and nudges her little girl, “But are you Harper Davis?”  
The girl, who can’t be older than eight, is staring at Harper.  
She nods.  
“Would you, um,” The little girl holds out a notepad and a pen, “Would you sign this for me?” She’s so nervous she’s almost stammering, “I saw you play last weekend. You’re my favorite.”  
Harper nods, genuinely smiling now, “Of course,” She takes a step forward, “What’s your name?”  
“Alice,” The little girl can’t stop staring at her.  
“Do you play soccer, Alice?” Harper signs her name in pretty loopy cursive and writes her number into the book.  
“Yeah,” Alice grinds the toe of her shoe into the pavement, “But my brother says soccer’s for boys.”  
Their mother draws inhales like that’s news to her.  
Harper leans in closer to Alice, “Do you want to know a secret?”  
She nods, her head flying up and down, leaning in closer.  
Harper stage-whispers, “That’s what boys always say, when they’re scared you’re better than them,” She dusts Alice’s shoulders, “And the only way they ever learn to be nicer is when you prove that you are. You can do that, right, Alice?”  
“Yeah,” She grins.  
“Awesome,” Harper hands her back her pen, “Then you better give me your autograph too, so I can say I met you, when you play in the Olympics.”  
Alice blushes and stutters again, then finally scribbles her name on a piece of paper she fold into fourths before giving to Harper.  
“Thanks, Alice,” Harper carefully tucks it in her shirt pocket.  
“Thank you,” Her eyes are the size of saucers.  
“Thank you,” Alice’s mom choruses, but continues gripping her son’s shoulder.  
“No problem,” Harper high-fives the little girl, “Good luck this season, Alice.”  
Alice nods, then tries to whisper again, “Um, your boyfriend looks like Zach Herron.”  
Harper barely holds back her laugher, “You know what? It’s silly, but he gets that a lot.”

 

After I start the car, I lean my elbow on the center console, propping my chin up on my fist, “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”  
Harper shoves my face away, “Don’t push your luck, Z.”  
I laugh, checking the mirrors then backing out of the parking spot, “Does that happen to you often?”  
“Getting recognized in public?” She asks.  
“Yeah,” I turn into the highway, “You just made that little girl’s year.”  
“Like you don’t do that everyday.”  
“You were good with her,” I watch her out of the corner of my eye.  
Harper fidgets with the air-conditioning, “Sometimes, after important games, people wait around to talk to us, and I coached kids camps in High School.”  
“While we're on the subject of High School,” I attempt to act like I’m not as interested as I am, “Why’d you break up with Collin?”  
Harper coughs, “You’ve been thinking about that since yesterday, haven’t you?”  
“No,” I drag out the word, because the real answer is yes, nonstop.  
“Well, first of all, his name is Cooper,” She smirks.  
“Same difference,” I quote her brother.  
She laughs, “And he wanted to me to go to Mexico with him for Valentine’s Day.”  
“And you hate Hallmark Holidays and tacos?”  
“Valentine’s Day was the same weekend as our State Championship,” She shakes her head.  
“He wanted you to pick him over soccer?” I raise an eyebrow, “What an idiot.”  
“That was it for us,” Harper doesn’t defend him, “I couldn’t be with anybody who thinks my life is a hobby. I watched Eli and my brother fight that for way too long.”  
“I didn’t know that, about them,” I shift gears, “Eli…”  
“Would never badmouth him,” She finishes my sentence, “It took me years to put it together, but,” She tucks her feet up into her seat, pulling her shirt over her knees, “Colt loved her, but always thought he knew best, and she loved him, but never cared what he thought. She’s all ambition, and he’s always been happy where he is. They made a terrible couple.” I hum in agreement. 

Harper puts her window down, dancing her fingers in the wind, “Do I get to ask you an invasive question now?”  
“I guess,” I hedge, “I already told you how things ended with Maya, though.”  
“I don’t care about that,” Harper dismisses, and I think she’s telling the truth.  
Then she asks, “What’s one thing you wish you hadn’t done?”

Sometimes, I can forget Harper is basically Eli’s sister.  
Then, she does something like that, something that proves she’s never pulled a punch in her life, never taken the easy way out of anything, and I remember.  
Next to me, her hair is a bedhead wreck, her face is still flushed and dewy, and her eyes hold a challenge I always want to meet.  
I’m so fucking grateful I’m not interested in easy anymore.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Kitten,” I could pretend otherwise, but one Google search would make me a liar, “But,” I shrug, “If all those things got me here, right now, with you,” I glance her direction, “Then I wouldn’t change anything.”  
“Are you always this good with words?” She doesn’t hesitate.  
“Just with you.”  
“Good,” She’s smiles like she’s won something, and I think maybe she has.

 

_Harper._

_My earliest memory is of Christmas lights._  
_I might have been five, when Eli and Colt bundled us into his car, the two of them acting for me like winter existed in central Florida, and singing Christmas music at the top of their lungs. Eli had a printed map of the best neighborhoods in the city for Christmas decorations, and we drove around for hours, hunting them down and ranking the most outrageously wonderful houses._  
_I’ve had a thing for lights ever since, and so, for my birthday, Eli and Colt managed to rent out the entire Neon Museum, this sprawling graveyard of refurbished classic Las Vegas signs. We started with a private tour, and have full access to wander around now, basically letting me bask in the lights as long as I want to. It’s exactly the kind of thoughtful present Eli always manages, made better by the fact that it kept us all together and my friends from subjecting me to their inquisition about where I was this morning, since Zach miscalculated and they were awake when we got home, at least until I get distracted._

 _“I don’t think you ever went to sleep last night,” Ruby accuses, grinning wildly next to Kennedy, the moment we’re out of hearing distance to the rest of our group._  
_“I did too,” I protest, “We just woke up early.”_  
_Kennedy gives me her goalie, too-knowing stare, “You expect us to believe that?”_  
_“I have documentation,” I shove my phone at them, the only picture we took in Zion already my home-screen, which I don’t have a great explanation for, but thankful they don’t ask about that._  
_“Wow,” Ruby tries to zoom in._  
_“Yeah,” I agree, but don’t bother telling them how a picture could never do justice to the way Zion woke up in front of us, how the sun rose behind us, illuminating the canyon and Zach’s self-satisfied smirk, and how everything felt at the same time so great and so small, the entire world below us and his hand holding mine._  
_“That looks unreal,” Kennedy comments._  
_“It doesn’t feel real, that we were there this morning,” I take my phone out of Ruby’s hand, before she gets any ideas, like trying to read Zach’s messages. Which she’s already done once, and teased me mercilessly for._  
_“So, Zach, huh?” Ruby looks over at where he’s currently climbing on Jonah’s back beside Corbyn for Christina to take a picture._  
_“He’s funny, and sweet, and,” I watch him topple off, and nearly collide into sign, saved from writing what I’m sure would be a painfully large check to fix it by Jonah catching him at the last second, “kind of a mess.”_  
_Ruby smirks, “So, you’re gonna hit that?”_  
_“Please don’t ever say that again,” I beg._  
_“Answer the question,” She kicks my shin._  
_I kick her back, “It’s complicated.”_  
_“Because your family tree needs a crime wall to comprehend?” Kennedy smiles._  
_I roll my eyes, “I told you, Eli and Colton were together when they were kids, then they broke up. Now she’s having Jonah’s baby. Merritt is her half-brother, Penn is her step-brother, and he and Alden are,” I glance them, trying to understand what Ruby sees, but drawing a blank, “Way too old for Ruby.”_  
_“They're still hot,” Ruby licks her lips._  
_“Colton too,” Kennedy almost whispers._  
_“Kick!” I hiss her nickname, almost scandalized. She's not usually that bold._  
_Ruby nods, “Seriously. Why didn’t you tell us your brothers were so hot?”_  
_“They’re almost thirty!” These girls are insane._  
_“Maturity is attractive?” Ruby tries._  
_“You professed your un-dying love for Coach K’s similarly unattainable son, literally, two days ago,” I deadpan._  
_“I can’t help having good taste, HD,” Ruby elbows me, “And you don’t know about that. He’s single.”_  
_“That wasn’t a challenge,” I try to backtrack, throwing my hands up, because I know her._  
_“Oh, but now it is,” Ruby rubs her hands together._  
_“What is?” Zach asks, suddenly behind me._  
_“Nothing!” I squeak, and he laughs._  
_“Your brother was telling me,” He starts._  
_“Lies,” I cut him off._  
_“You’re not supernaturally lucky, then?” Zach puts his arm over my shoulder._  
_“She is,” Merritt joins us, “She was always winning those stupid mail in prizes when we were little, and school raffles and radio call-in contests, and roulette.”_  
_“I had to be good at something,” I lean into Zach, because he’s warm and I’m weak, “Ya’ll never let me win anything.”_  
_“We had to toughen you up somehow,” Merritt pokes my stomach._  
_“Wasn’t that your excuse for tossing me in the lake too?” I push his hand away._  
_“You should be thanking me,” He grins, “I saw you take down that Georgetown girl last week.”_  
_“It was an accident,” I point at him, while Kennedy and Ruby cackle, and even Zach can’t hide his amusement, “Don’t laugh,” I turn on him, “You’ll encourage him.”_  
_Zach fights back his smile, his chest still shaking, “Come on, Calamity,” He steers me away, “I want to see you in action.”_  
_“It doesn’t work like that,” I try to object, but let him lead me away anyway._

_“I thought you said it doesn’t work like that,” Zach complains, when he’s lost fifty bucks, and I’ve turned twenty-five into five hundred._  
_I don’t giggle at the shock written all over his face, but I can’t help smirking, “Merritt did warn you.”_  
_He stares at the chips in my hand, “I mostly thought he was joking.”_  
_“That’s fair,” I grant him, “Merritt’s a tease ninety-nine percent of the time, but he wasn’t joking about this,” I shrug, “I’m just sort of good at it.”_  
_“Sort of?” He exclaims._  
_“I don’t like losing.”_  
_Zach huffs, “I think that’s an understatement.”_  
_“Potentially,” I agree._  
_“Where’d your friends go?” He looks around._  
_“Slots,” I shake my head, even I don’t bother trying to win those, “Where’d your band go?”_  
_“Bed, probably,” He laughs, thumbing towards himself, “I think we’re all still on London time,” He sticks his tongue out, thinking, then reaches for my hand, “Could I interest you in my favorite thing in Vegas?”_  
_“You just love being vague, don’t you?” I bite my lip._  
_He doesn’t deny it, “You’re cute when you're frustrated. So?”_  
_“I suppose,” I sigh, and he beams, pulling me towards the elevators._

_It turns out, Zach’s favorite thing in Las Vegas is eating ridiculously expensive room-service dessert in bed, and sitting next to him, I think it could be mine too._

 

 


	12. Firecracker

_Harper._

_I think I’m getting a lecture, when Eli drops into the seat beside me on the plane home._

_All of our brothers are on a different flight together, flying into the midwest then splitting up during their layover, and Jonah, Corbyn, and Zach left us at security, driving to meet up with the rest of their band somewhere in Arizona for something to do with their album._  
_Without three-fifths of the planet’s most popular boyband, the rest of us are flying commercial home._

_Before they drove away I let Zach’s hug linger, for a long longer than I should have given how observant Eli is._

_“Did you have a good birthday, Hops?” Eli reaches for her seatbelt, looking me in the eye._  
_There’s questions in hers, but I recognize the out she’s giving me there too, and I take it, “The best.”_  
_She dimples, dropping her suspicions, “I told you, you would like Las Vegas.”_  
_“I really like Las Vegas,” I admit, smiling at the stupid sparkly hoodie Zach forced on me this morning._  
_“I’m glad,” Eli takes her laptop out, “I worry, sometimes,” She looks at me again, “You’ve always been so serious. It’s nice to see you excited about something outside of soccer.”_

 _I suddenly get the feeling we’re not talking about Las Vegas any more._  
_“I don’t know. It’s new,” I hedge._  
_“New isn’t a bad thing, Hopper,” Eli smiles, opens her editing software, because she never stops working but spent two days without turning on her laptop for me, and I watch Las Vegas disappear outside the plane window. None of this weekend felt real, and I don’t know if that’s because it’s such a weird place, or because I spent every second with Zach, but I have my suspicions too._

_Zach’s exceptionally good at making real life feel like fantasy._

 

 _I do actually get a lecture, a few days later at practice._  
_We’ve just finished running laps, cooling down, when our Coach yells for me across the field, “Miss Davis.”_  
_I’m halfway to the locker room, sandwiched between Kennedy and Ruby, who start making jokes immediately._  
_“Oh,” Ruby makes her eyes go wide, whispering, “You’re in trouble…”_  
_Kennedy just laughs._  
_I swat at Ruby, “Don’t even start,” I roll my eyes, “He probably just wants to dissect my sprints,” Probably. Hopefully._  
_I wave them off, jogging across the field to Coach K’s side._  
_He inclines his head away from the group of assistants around him, “Walk with me, kid.”_  
_I fall into step next to him, resisting the urge to demand to know what’s going on._  
_When we’re outside their hearing distance, he starts, “You remember my granddaughters?”_  
_I nod, his oldest son’s daughters are preteens, and come to a lot of our games._  
_“Well, they’re big fans of this band,” He continues._  
_I feel myself go pale._  
_“And in particular, this boy,” Coach K doesn’t name names, but he doesn’t have to, “who spent the weekend dancing in Las Vegas.”_  
_I don’t know how to respond._  
_“No one published your name,” He tells me, kindly, “But they got a close up of his face, over your shoulder,” He lays his hand down over it, “And I know exactly one person with a scar like that.”_

_A couple years ago, girl crashing into me during a playoff game, her cleat landed in my shoulder blade, three of the spikes stabbed into my flesh then yanked back through inches of my skin leaving a pattern Eli describes as shooting stars, a meteor shower across my upper back, and Colt claims is a battle scar. I should have had stitches, but refused to stop playing, and Coach K is right, it’s unique enough to be recognizable._

_I swallow, “I didn’t notice anyone talking pictures.”_  
_He shakes his head, “I’m not even going to ask what you were doing there,” It’s a kind gesture, from a man who’s threatened dismemberment to any girl caught so much as jaywalking while at his school, “But you might reconsider doing things like that, with him, in the future.”_  
_“Why?” The question leaves my mouth, indignant, even though I know better._  
_“You can never just take my advice, can you?” Coach K sighs, “Because, Harper, you have the best chance of making the National team of any girl here, but we’ve had enough issues with bad press, and that boy is a tabloid nightmare.”_  
_The compliment to me versus the dig at Zach play havoc on my emotions. I don’t know if I want to blush, or ball my fists._  
_“Don’t make life harder on yourself, kid. Stay away from him. I’m telling you, it’s not worth it.”_  
_“Or I won’t get tapped for the Olympic team?”_  
_He grimaces, “I didn’t say that.”_  
_“But you implied it,” I can’t stop myself, “You know what this means to me,” I stand up straighter, “ You know how hard I work, and how focused I am when I’m on the field, but what I do in my free time, as long as I’m not hurting anybody, isn’t anyone’s business but mine,” I’m pissed off now, “And if the national organization doesn’t want me because of who my friends are, then maybe,” I rant, “Maybe that’s not an organization I want to be a part of.”_  
_I turn on my heels, and march off the field, past the locker room, and all the way off campus._

 

 _I’ve cooled down by the time I let myself into Eli’s place, sweaty and numb. I don’t bother knocking, then throw my gym bag down in the entryway, “Eli?”_  
_Jonah answers from the kitchen, “She’s at the studio.”_  
_“Is Zach home?” They got in last night, for one of their thirty-six hour shifts in California, in which they mostly just sleep. Zach had tried to get me to come home then, but I had morning practice and an eight-o’clock class today._  
_“He’s with Jack,” Jonah walks into the hall, assessing me, “Do you want a water?”_  
_I nod, follow him into the kitchen, and drink half the bottle he hands me in one swing._  
_Jonah finally interrupts me, “What’s going on, Harp?”_

_Jonah is quieter than the other guys, stoic usually and, for as long as I’ve known him, impossible to faze. He’s easy to talk to, understanding and thoughtful in a way that’s always made him seem older than he is._

_I think that’s why I tell him, “Someone took pictures, in Las Vegas, of Zach and me.”_  
_Predictably, he remains impassive, “Did they get your face?”_  
_“No,” I shrug, “But that dress exposed a lot of my shoulders.”_  
_“They got your scar,” He pieces together._  
_“My coach saw, and I got,” I consider how to phrase it, landing on, “A warning.”_  
_Jonah raises one eyebrow, “And you responded to that by?”_

 _I wish I wasn’t so predictable that he could guess I responded poorly, but running my mouth against things I find unfair is the kind of trouble I usually find myself in. It’s just this instance that makes me want to vomit._  
_“I, ah,” I try for tactful, “Basically told him to shove it.”_  
_“You can tell me you told him to fuck off, Harper,” Jonah huffs, in wry amusement._  
_“Eli would say that isn’t polite,” I protest._  
_“Eli still thinks I don’t understand enough Spanish for her cursing in that language to count,” He grins, then gets serious again, “How bad was it?”_  
_I set my water bottle down, fidgeting with it on the counter looking anywhere but at him, “I told Coach K if the national team doesn’t want me because of who I’m friends with, then I didn’t want them.”_  
_Jonah whistles, low._  
_“I know.”_  
_“You’ve wanted to play in the Olympics longer than I’ve known you,” He points out._  
_“I know,” I push the bottle away, “But what if I’m capable of wanting both?” I look up to meet his eyes, “I do want both,” I say it quietly, this thing I’ve only admitted while joking, now earnestly, “I think I could really love him.”_  
_Jonah, being the infallible human he is, responds, “Zach makes that easy, doesn’t he?” He says it with authority. I know he means it too. He loves Zach, they all do. I’m only beginning to understand all the things these guys have done for each other, they’re more a family than a band, and everything they’ve been through has bonded them together in a way I can barely comprehend._  
_“You got both, Eli and music. She has dance and you. How did you do it?”_  
_“We made sacrifices,” He answers honestly, “And there were consequences for us too.”_  
_“Like hiding your relationship?”_  
_He nods, “I never called her my girlfriend, because I thought if I got comfortable saying it in private, I’d slip in public,” Jonah’s face is solemn, “When I met Eli, so much of my career depended on being desirable. I needed fans to think I was obtainable. She didn’t have any interest in being part of our famousness either,” He shakes his head, because she’s the center of that chaos now, “But it was still difficult.”_  
_“Would you change anything?” I ask, even though I think I know the answer._  
_“If I had it to do over again?” Jonah thinks about it, “Potentially, I’d have more faith in our fans. Not at the beginning, because we had valid reasons for what we did, but later?” He leans against the counter, “I might not have kept them in the dark so long. They’ve been good to us, regardless of the press. Our wedding picture is the most liked post on our instagram page,” He smiles,“Eli is a puzzle with no edge pieces, and the picture changes daily. I can predict what she’s thinking only, maybe, forty percent of the time. She’s a perfectionist, but only for herself, in a way that continually pushes me to be better. She is the most beautiful person I’ve seen, and that is the least interesting thing about her,” He looks into my eyes, “So, if I had to do it over again? Changing nothing, and continuing to keep us a secret forever? I would do it, Harper, without question, because Eli’s worth it. My whole life is about earning those dimples.”_  
_I think that’s the most words I’ve ever heard Jonah speak at once._  
_“You need to decide what being with Zach is worth to you, Harp,” He shrugs, “And I can’t help you there, but if it means anything?” His mouth quirks up, “I couldn’t get Zach out of bed at four in the morning, even if the house was on fire.”_

_Jonah’s acknowledgment does mean something, because I like Zach, in almost every situation, but I more than like who he is for me._

 

Zach.

“She was pretty,” Jack steps into my space, handing me a paper coffeecup he must’ve bribed someone for. It’s way too early for the breakfast at this hotel to be out.  
“Hm?” I question around a gulp. It’s terrible, but caffeine.  
“That girl you were just talking to?” Jack smacks the back of my head.  
I shrug, “I didn’t notice.”  
He reaches into my back pocket, lifting a room key, “I mean, leaving this is a little forward, but you should’ve gotten her number,” He smirks.  
I didn’t realize she did that when I gave her a hug goodbye, but it isn’t the first time, “I didn’t want it.”  
Jack considers me, “It’s been, like, months since everything when down with Maya. You haven’t picked up anyone since then.”  
“I’m not interested,” I yawn into my coffee.  
He laughs, “You’re never not interested.”  
I look up, “I don’t want to do that anymore.”  
It takes Jack less than a second to conclude, “Damn it, Zach. Messing around with Harper. Really?”

This is the problem with living, working, and generally spending every waking moment of my life with my best friends.  
I hush him, “I’m not messing around with anybody, J. I’m,” I don’t really have a word for what we’re doing but, “I’m trying to date her.”  
“Trying to?”  
“Shut up, Jack.”  
He nods, smirking again, “Cool. That’s great, but just make sure I’m safe in New York City with Brooke when you tell Eli, okay? ‘Cause she’s going to go nuclear.”  
I groan, because he's probably right. 

Jonah stumbles off the elevator, blinking at his phone, “Hey Corbyn?” His tone is a bit worried and a lot entertained, “How concerned should I be that Christina just called demanding my credit card number?”  
Corbyn tilts his head, “What did she want it for?”  
Jonah shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t ask.”  
“Did you give it to her?” Corbyn squints.  
“She insisted,” Jonah nods.  
“Well,” Corbyn drawls, “You’re fucked.”  
“That’s what I thought,” Jonah sighs, but laughs behind it.  
I give him the other half of my coffee, “Can I have your credit card number?”  
“Why?” He looks at me already lifting it to his mouth.  
“You didn’t ask Christina that!” I protest.  
“Christina doesn’t regularly order regulation sporting equipment and five thousand dollar mattresses to my house.”

I don’t have an excuse for that, or at least, I don’t have one I feel like sharing.

 

 

Jonah and I got home late last night. Milo, Eli, and Harper were already in bed when we arrived, but there was a note stuck to the mirror of our bathroom in Harper’s scrawly cursive telling me goodnight, and ‘Thank you for the unicorn feather bed’.  
I’d buy her twenty of them, for the way she smiles at me in the kitchen when we finally stumbled downstairs.

Milo and Eli are bent over the counter, debating something in Spanish examining a sketch that looks a lot more like football plays than dance choreography, while Jonah drinks coffee and watches them. I’m hassling Harper, getting in her way on purpose, because I love the way she grumbles, when a truck honks outside the house.

“Zachary?” Eli turns to me.  
I hold up my hands, “I didn’t do it.”  
They honk again, and we all move towards the front door.  
There is a U-Haul parked sideways in the center of our driveway, Corbyn madly grinning behind the wheel. He honks again when he sees us.  
“Alright,” Christina walks around from the other side, yelling to her fiance, “That’s enough.”  
“Christina?” Eli cautious steps outside.  
Jack, Brooke, Daniel and Angi get out of their car beside the truck, and while Jonah seems as confused as I am, they all appear to be in on this.  
“Surprise!” Christina pushes open the back of the U-Haul, revealing dozens of boxes, most of which look like furniture.  
“Is that?” I start.  
“Rory’s nursery!” Christina does her best Vanna White impression, and Milo losses it, laughing with his hands on Eli’s shoulders.  
“Christina, you didn’t have to do this. I would’ve,” Eli tries.  
“Gotten around to it eventually,” Christina waves her hands around, “I know, but you work all the time, Elijah,” She smiles, “And you can’t bring my god-daughter home in a baseball jersey,” She mock-glares at Jonah, who did purchase a tiny Twins onesie in an airport last month, “So I made Jonah gave me his credit card number.”

Milo laughs until he has sit down, and even Jonah chuckles.  
Christina really is something else.

Sometime after the twenty-millionth a screw rolls across the floor of the downstairs guest room we’re building furniture in, I decide we need reinforcement. The guys and I have completed half a changing table and what might a crib, or possibly an ultra-modern chair, in two hours.  
I stalk into the living room, calling for Brooke, my voice a mix of whining and begging.  
“Brooke!”  
“Zach,” She glances up from the sofa. The girls, plus Milo, have camped out in the living room surrounding a mountain of baby clothes and Eli, who’s tying some kind of scarf around Harper’s torso.  
“Ah,” I get distracted, “Trying something new, Firecracker?” I smile at her, “I didn’t know body scarves were in.”  
“It’s a baby wrap,” Eli scoops a toy bunny off the floor, tucking it into the scarf against Harper to demonstrate.  
It is, admittedly, the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.  
Harper snuggles the stuffed animal to her chest, posing while looking at Eli, “So?”  
“It’s perfect, Hopsy,” Eli wraps her arms around her, “Thank you.”  
When they separate, Eli looks at me, “What did you need, Z?”  
“Help,” I force myself to turn away from Harper, making puppy-dog eyes at Brooke, “Nothing is working.”  
“Nothing?” Brooke laughs, getting up off the sofa.  
“Nothing,” I shake my head sadly, and drag her back to fix our mess.

 

In the time it takes Eli to order us pizza, Brooke, of course, builds both the crib, and the changing table, and starts assembling a dresser.  
When Harper comes to get us to eat, all the guys are staring at Brooke like she’s preformed a miracle.  
She dusts her hands, reminding us, “I literally minored in engineering. If I can’t build a bed, we’ve got bigger problems.”  
Brooke shakes her head at our still-shocked faces on her way down the hall, “I think this means I get first choice on pizza, though.”  
“Not a chance,” Jack chases after her, and I chase after him, and like everything involving the band and food, it gets messy fast.

Almost all the food is gone, when Harper turns her attention on me, “I can’t believe you didn’t buy that house.”  
I almost choke, and Brooke cuts me a look.  
“And whoever did is renovating it too,” Harper complains, oblivious to our silent conversation, “If they put a pool in that backyard, I’m going to cry.”  
Brooke coughs, to keep from laughing.  
I feel my cheeks get redder.  
Brooke is the only person here who knows I, actually, did buy that house. I wanted to wait to tell everyone until after I was ready to move it, and it turns out, that process takes forever. Brooke just knows because I needed someone to draw up plans for renovations, to install a gym and take out a bedroom to make space in the garage, and I trust her.  
Her laugher currently, a result of my insistence that under no circumstances would the backyard be altered even when she really wanted to add a pool, is making me rethink that decision.  
Eli saves me, collapsing into the space between me and Harper, then sneering at the pizza in my hand, “That smells really good.”  
I hand the slice to her instantly, because anything she’ll eat at this point is fair game. Jonah is still losing his mind a little at how slowly Eli’s gaining weight.  
Eli scrunches up her nose, but takes a bite, then hums, before taking another.  
“So, E,” Harper grins.  
“No,” Eli doesn’t turn towards her, insisting, “Hawaiian pizza is still blasphemous. Rory likes pineapple, not me.”  
Harper just keeps smiling.

I’ve spent hours, figuring out how to make mine perfect in photographs, but Harper’s smirk is the best I’ve ever seen.


	13. Hellcat

Zach.

Harper spins lazy circles in my desk chair, picking up anything I’ve left sitting there to examine closer, while I attempt to pack. The schedule of this tour is better than most, it's still a ton of shows, but we have a few days off sporadically thrown in each month, to give us the impression of getting a break.     
We’ve spent most of this one cutting tags off tiny baby clothes, assembling furniture and painting the nursery, and I still don’t want to leave.

It’s after eleven, but Harper’s been spared her morning practice to rest for a game later, and with no classes until after lunch, she’s had time to distract me all morning.

She sets down a picture of Jack and I, crammed into a London phone booth at Brooke’s direction, and then pokes at Daniel’s old soundboard. The instrument takes up nearly my entire desk, I’m surprised it’s taken her this long to mess with it.  
“Have you ever played with a mixer before?” I drop four pairs of jeans into my suitcase, on top of all my clean boxers and socks.  
“Nope,” Harper pops.  
“The power switch is on the side,” I direct her, and watch her chew her lip when it lights up. Harper gently presses the buttons, like she’s afraid to hurt the machine, but works out a rhythm in slow-motion.  
I grab most of the tee shirts from my laundry basket, in case of emergency, then zip my bag closed. Harper’s not playing attention, when I step up behind her, caging her between me and the desk, then reach around her to press a few keys.  
She looks over her shoulder to grin at me, listening to me turn her half-beat into a song.

I had a song in mind before I took over, and I can’t stop myself from playing it with her. I move her fingers to the drum keys, pressing them into the percussion line until she’s got it, then whistle the chorus into the loop.  
I take a breath, then sing into her ear, “You like to mess with me,  
“Sending all them pictures,  
“You like to mess with me,” Harper glances up at me, her eyes smiling, keeping her hands beneath mine on the board.  
“Don’t know how you do it,  
“You stay finessing me,” I smirk back, “Touch me just a little, and now you’re reckless,  
“See,  
“You like to mess with me,”  
I move her fingers over to the loop track, playing my whistling behind the chorus,  
“You like to,  
“You like to mess with me,  
“You like to, you like to,  
“You like to mess with me,” Shifting her back to the drums, Harper picks up the beat I taught her, the edge of her smile visible even when she isn’t look at me.  
“Oh, yeah,” I reach for a higher note than I’d usually try, but I have this insane urge to impress her, “Anytime, any place, you be all in face,  
“You don’t care,  
“Girl, you think it’s a game ‘cause I can’t do a thing,  
“It ain’t fair,  
“No, it ain’t fair,  
“Doesn’t matter what I say,  
“You do what you want anyway,” I pull her fingers off the drum keys, “You like to mess with me.”

“Jesus Christ, Zach,” Harper swears, and I take a step back, giving her space to swirl around in my chair, staring me down with wide eyes while the board continues playing our rhythm without us. “You,” She shakes her head, “No wonder girls throw panties at you.”  
I scratch the back of my head, “I think those are usually for Jonah.”  
She shakes her head again, “They’re, definitely, for you.”  
I raise one eyebrow, because I can’t resist, “Does that mean I can get yours?”

Quicker than I can brace myself, Harper plants her foot against my abs, then sends me sprawling down on my bed.  
She crosses her arms over her chest, even while she laughs at my shocked expression.  
Harper’s small, compared to me, but she’s insanely strong.

When I catch my breath, Harper points at my guitar in the corner, “Sing something else,” and I pick it up, because I’m totally helpless to ignore her demands.

 

 

Harper is, by all accounts, a terrible texter. She’ll read my message, then hours will pass before she responds, not because she’s being passive/passive-aggressive but because she just forgets to respond, or else, she’ll answer all my questions with more questions.  
Case in point, when I message her,

‘can i take you to a movie?’

She replies, three hours later,

‘Today?’  
‘What kind of movie?’

‘tonight’  
‘horror’  
‘what else would i take you to, huh?’

‘That wasn’t what I was asking..’  
‘Like,’  
‘Are we talking a regular movie theater, or a premier or something?’  
‘Also,’  
‘Aren’t you in Minnesota?’

‘me and corbyn came back early’  
‘j stayed there with e’  
‘to run that marathon’  
‘because they’re nuts’

Honestly, sane people don’t run marathons seven months pregnant, or in the freezing cold. They’ve both lost it, in my opinion, but couldn’t be persuaded against it since Eli loves running, and Jonah loves Eli.

…  
‘jack’s in nyc’  
‘and daniel’s’  
‘?’  
‘somewhere with ange’  
‘so’  
‘movie?’

‘I want too.’  
‘But I don’t want to be in a million pictures tonight.’

That’s fair, but I don’t want to share her anyway.  
‘promise it’s just a normal theater’  
‘so?’

‘Yes.’

‘i’ll pick you up at seven’

 

In our seats, Harper holds her sprite with both hands, looking around the empty theatre with a grin.  
She kicks her feet up to rest on the back of the chair in front of her as the beginning of Foreign Correspondent plays on the projector.  
“Zach?” Harper whispers in the dark.  
“Yeah?” I look at her.  
“Is this a date?”  
Harper’s wearing jeans, a red sweater that’s practically backless, and has left her hair down, even if it’s still wet.  
“No, Hellcat,” I drawl out the word, shaking my head, “I rent out entire cinemas for my friends all the time,” I reach over to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Of course, it’s a date.”  
She grins, “Just checking.”  
I thumb over her cheek, “I’d really like to kiss you,” It’s an echo of something I told her once, before I knew her the way I do now, before I liked her as much as I do now. It was true enough then, but I’m desperate for it now.  
The first time I said it, she stood still.  
This time, though, Harper leans into closer, “So, why don’t you?” She dares, and so I do.

Harper is sugar sweet and salty.  
From popcorn and soda, and her personality.  
Her habit of biting transfers from her own lips to mine, and all at once, kissing her feels new and hot and wild, and, also, exactly like something we’ve been doing forever, familiar and comfortable in a perfect way.

 

We don’t come up for air until the credits roll and the lights turn on.

 

I’m dazed and usually surefooted Harper is almost clumsy as we make our way outside of the theatre. I try not to smirk too hard.  
We’re in the lobby, my arm around her waist, my focus still caught on her mouth, when I catch the flash of a camera outside the building.  
I turn immediately, pulling Harper into an alcove, cursing internally.  
“Z?” She trips at our sudden change of direction.  
“Sorry, sorry,” I kiss her forehead, “There’s paparazzi outside.”  
Harper stills. Her whole body going stiff as she steps out of my arms.  
“Kitten?”  
“Is there another way for us to leave?” She paces, in the tiny space we’re hiding in.  
“No,” I answer, “I don’t think so,” I reach for her, “Are you okay?”  
She flinches away from me, rubbing her forehead, looking anywhere but at me, “It wasn’t really a joke, not wanting to be photographed.”  
“What do you mean?” I restrain myself from touching her, even though it hurts.  
Harper bites her lip, “I didn’t want to tell you, because it doesn’t matter…”  
“What doesn’t matter?”  
She comes back to me, laying her forehead against my chest, mumbling, “My coach found the pictures of us in Las Vegas.”

I know which pictures she means, because they got me a stern look from Daniel and Jack printed a bunch of them to make fun of my face, then taped them inside my bunk on the bus.  
I look utterly wrecked in those pictures, watching her dance in my arms.

Harper continues, “He implied it might, potentially, hurt my chances for making the National team, if it happened again.”  
“What?” I explode.  
“It’s not a big deal, Zach.”  
“Not a big deal,” I fume, “This is your life.”  
“Zach.”  
I swallow, “You can’t do this,” I grip her shoulders, and push myself back, “We can’t do this,” I look into her eyes, “That is everything you’ve worked for your entire life. That’s your whole future,” I shake my head, feeling like such an idiot. She deserves so much better. She deserves someone more composed and less complicated that I am. Someone who can’t ruin her life with a few photographs, “I can’t do this to you. I,” I can’t believe I’ve been so selfish, “I care about you, and I want you,” I whisper, “So much, but I just can’t take that away from you. I would never forgive myself,” I study the ceiling, “You should never forgive me.”

Harper clears her throat, and coughs again, until I meet her eyes. She tilts her head, bored and, possibly, amused, “Finished?”  
“I,” I hesitate, “I guess?”  
“Great,” She narrows her eyes at me, “While I appreciate your concern, your martyr complex need some work,” Harper steps closer, pinning me to the wall, “It’s very sweet of you to defend my career, even if that means losing what you want,” She reaches for my hand and I let her lace her fingers between mine, “But you forgot to take into account what I want,” She presses even closer, “I want people to stop telling me what I can and can’t do, Zach,” She lifts her chin, pure confidence and radiating courage, “And I want you.”

 

_Harper._

_Being the youngest in my family meant no one treated me like I was precious. My parents were done with kids by the time I was born, and I only ever wanted to play dirty anyway._

_Being the youngest in the band meant basically the opposite for Zach._  
_It meant the other guys, all at least two years older and significantly more mature, knew what choosing to pursue this career would mean for him. They knew what it would steal from him, and it made them fiercely protective, which gave Zach the space to make mistakes. He got to be the baby, the cute one, so no one could ever stay mad at him for too long._

_Zach’s put his foot in his mouth, a million times, and can't keep quiet to save his life, but doesn’t experience real consequences either._

_Zach's the wild-child, the man-boy, the girl-chaser, and the attention-whore._  
_The problem is, Zach isn’t really any of those things._

_It was a good part, and he makes it a great performance now, because that’s a role he might’ve fit five years ago when the band started, but it just doesn’t do him justice anymore._

_The way his fans think of him, the idea the public has of him, never gave him a chance to grow up, not the way he did in private._

_He’s been honest with me, confessed more than once, how ignorant, arrogant, and carless he was at sixteen, but he’s not sixteen anymore._  
_Zach’s worked nonstop for years, surrounded with good people, living with the most stable conscious couple I know, and he’s just not that kid anymore._  
_He’s still goofy, and weird, and loves with a kind of ferociousness I adore, but he isn’t reckless. He’d rather stay in than go out, and his real smile, at things that make him genuinely happy, doesn’t look manic at all. Not the way the press pretends he is._

 _“Zach Herron, as reported by TMZ, is a fuckup who’s going to wreck my reputation,” I don’t bother trying to soften that blow, staring him down in a poorly lit hallway of an empty movie theatre, “But the Zach I know is thoughtful, and considerate, and way too smart,” I stress, “My Zach wouldn’t, couldn’t, fuck this up.”_  
_“I can’t take that chance,” He concentrates on me, “I have had opportunities beyond what I could’ve ever imagined. If my career ends tomorrow, I’d still be so damn proud of what we have accomplished,” Zach always looks awed when he talks about his music. They've been so lucky, and worked so hard, “But you’re just starting out, and you’re so good. You deserve to play in the Olympics, and be signed to whatever team you want, and get sponsored by whichever brands you want to work with, and I can’t steal that from you.”_  
_I study him. His electrocuted-looking stupid-perfect hair, his deep brown eyes, his elven ears, the cut of his jaw and the red of his cheeks._  
_He’s so ridiculously good-looking._  
_I have resist the urge to shake him, “You’re giving yourself too much credit, Z. This hasn’t affected my soccer, in any way, and the minute it does, you’ll be the first to know. I’m not picking you over my career, but I am picking you,” I tug on his hand, “So you better not make me walk out there alone, or I might not do it again.”_  
_It’s that threat, that finally makes him crack. He smiles, not a lot, but enough, “If you say so.”_  
_“I do,” I start to march him towards the door, because it’s generally better to get unpleasant things over with quickly. Anticipation isn’t going to improve this situation._  
_“Hey, Ripley?” Zach stops me, right before we get to the exit._  
_“Yes?”_  
_“I really like being your Zach,” He smirks, bends down to kisses me once, then pushes the door open, “Just ignore them, whatever they say,” He advises, “Don’t respond.”_  
_Zach’s smile goes tight, weaving us through the crowd of people screaming outside. It’s harder to than I thought, to follow his directions, but I hold back, keep my head down, and my eyes on his steady stride towards the car._  
_It’s chaos, dozens of photographers clamoring around us, screaming his name, and asking absurd questions. By the time Zach gets the passenger door open and I slip inside, I can hardly see from all of the rapid-fire flashes going off around us._  
_I’ve dealt with the press before, but never like this._

 _Zach makes it halfway around the car, when someone calls out a question that makes him freeze._  
_They’ve been shouting, “Zach! Look over here!”_  
_“Zach! Is this your new girlfriend?”_  
_“Zach! Did you breakup with Maya for her?”_  
_“Zach! Does your band know you’re here?”_  
_The youngest guy though, somehow thrust to the front of the crowd after he got Zach to stop, has a recorder, instead of a camera. He asks again, “Zach, what do you think her chances are of making it to Paris?”_  
_This reporter is the first person to ask a question directly linking Zach to me, to prove he knows my name and identity, even if he hasn’t told the others, but I still think Zach’s going to ignore him._  
_Instead, Zach turns. He lays one hand on the hood of his car, then speaks clearly, enunciating every word like he does in interviews, “I’ve never seen anyone with the kind of talent she has. She’s averaged two goals and at least one assist in every collegiate game she’s been in, and she is the most dedicated and hardworking player I know,” He smirks, “Plus, she makes grass-stains and bloody elbows look sexy. No one deserves to be there more than she does, in my opinion, and I’m really looking forward to watching her dominate on the field in France.”_

_And I thought watching him defend Eli was hot._

_Zach slides into the driver’s seat, bringing the car roaring to life before he looks over at me, “Was that alright?”_  
_I stare at the cameras around us and not at him, “Get us out of here before I give them what they want.”_  
_“Yeah?” The way his voice breaks in want almost has me climbing across the gearshift anyway._  
_“Yeah,” I answer, smiling uncontrollably._

_It’s probably the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done, letting those photos get taken, allowing myself to get caught with Zach, but I can’t make myself regret it, not when he smiles back at me, and laughs flying out of the parking garage trying to get us home faster._  
_I know I'm going to pay for this, but he’s worth it._

_Zach is so, so worth it._


	14. Hops

_Harper._

_The best thing about Eli being pregnant, besides getting a niece or nephew out of it, is that, suddenly, my chronically early sister is late for everything. Usually, I would take that as a sign of the apocalypse, but in her third trimester of growing a person, she’s basically sleeping constantly, on top of all the puking._

_Which means when I let myself into her house fifteen minutes after we were supposed to leave for dinner, I don’t have to feel too guilty, because instead of waiting for me with her coat on, she doesn’t even answer when I call out her name._

_I check the living room first, since the last three times I’ve been here, I’ve found her asleep on the sofa, sitting at the kitchen table, and on the floor of her bathroom._  
_“Elijah?” I start towards the kitchen when she answers from her bedroom._  
_Her voice sounds funny, and I open my mouth to ask if we should just order dinner in but stop when I actually see her._

 _Eli isn’t glamorous. She lives in ballet shoes and clothes that can be worn over leotards, and thinks wearing jeans and twenty-year-old band shirts counts as dressing up._   _So it’s not her outfit that makes me pause, because she’s just_ _wearing one Jonah’s old tee-shirts and fuzzy socks, but it’s her position, standing bent over with her palms flat against the bed._  
_There’s sweat on her forehead and before she can answer me, her body goes tense._  
_Eli grinds her teeth for serval long seconds, then pushes back into the stretch, “I need you to call Zach.”_  
_“I,” I can’t process what’s going on, “What?”_  
_She finally looks at me, “I need you to call Zach. Jonah turns his phone off before they go on stage.”_  
_“I don’t…” I can’t lie to her and say I don’t have Zach's number, or that he wouldn’t answer, but I’m tempted too._  
_“Hopper,” Eli grimaces again, then sighs, “You’re exactly as bad at keeping secrets now as you were when you were three,” Colt would give me candy, bribing me not to tell anyone, and I would turn around and run to show Eli, “And Zach is the only who I have never had to remove a phone from during rehearsals, until you moved out. I will make him run every morning for eternity if he hurts you, and we are going to have a very, very long conversation about why he is making a better case for your place on the Olympic team than your managers are,” She manages to dimple, “Later. At the moment, I need you to call him, because my water just broke, and they’re in fucking San Diego.”_  
_It’s the curse leaving her mouth in English that clues me into the seriousness of the situation, and then the reality of what she’s just said sinks in._  
_“You’re?” My eyes go wide, “Now?” She's barely thirty-four weeks._  
_“I don’t want to panic them,” Eli lifts one hand to her stomach, breathing out slowing, “But Milo got on a flight this morning, Jo’s mom is on her way, and I can’t get to Jonah.”_  
_“Okay,” I nod a bunch of times, “Okay. We should go? To the hospital?” I keep nodding to myself, looking around for her bag, “We should go to the hospital.”_  
_“Harper,” Eli gets my attention, “You’re calling Zach, remember?”_  
_“Right,” I spin around, searching for my phone, “Right. Zach,” I find it in my hand, then nod again towards her, “Then the hospital.”_  
_“Then the hospital,” She agrees, and I think she’s laughing at me._

_Zach picks up on approximately the fifty-fourth time I dial his number._  
_“Hey, Hops,” He’s hyper, the kind of excited he gets after preforming, “I saw that goal this afternoon. You’re amazing,” He gushes, “It was impossible, and you just,”_  
_“You need to get Jonah home,” I cut him off, “Like, yesterday. Or, like, at least ten hours ago.”_  
_“Jonah?” I can almost see Zach tilting his head._  
_Eli, in the passenger’s seat, is somehow still calm even in this circumstance, reminding me, “Don’t scare him.”_  
_I disregard her, honking at someone slamming their breaks in front of us, “Are drivers in Los Angeles always this awful?”_  
_“Scare me?” Zach asks through the car speakers._  
_Eli gasps, this tiny horrible sound, her back arching off the seat while she holds tight to the handle above the door, and I wish, not for the first time, Jonah drove a monster car instead of an environmentally-friendly luxury SUV._  
_“Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance?” I watch her._  
_“No, Harper,” She scrunches up her nose, “This is natural.”_  
_“I know natural was your birth plan, but I seriously doubt this,” I wave around the car, trying to encompass me behind the wheel and her sitting on a towel, for reasons I’m trying not to think too hard about, “Was part of that.”_  
_Eli giggle-groans._  
_“Elijah?” Zach’s voice goes up an octave._  
_“Right,” I remember he’s still on the phone, “She’s in labor, so you need to get Jonah here,” I repeat, “Now.”_  
_“It’s too early,” Zach seems as shocked as I was, “Rory isn’t due until December.”_  
_“Funny thing about babies, they don’t know how to tell time,” I honk again, glancing at Eli, “I don’t understand why you decided a police escort was out of the question.”_  
_She ignores me, soothing, “Zachary, we’re okay,” She takes a breath, “But the baby is coming today, my water broke an hour ago, and I really need my husband for this.”_  
_“I can do that,” Zach promises, “I’ve got this. We’re leaving.”_  
_“Okay,” Eli grabs the edge of her seat, her back going tense again._  
_“Okay,” Zach replies, then he’s gone._

_We’re silent for a minute._

_“I suppose it’s serious, then,” Eli smirks, “If you’re letting him call you Hops now.”_  
_I knock my head against the window, because I’m not sure when this became my life, or what it says about me that I wouldn’t trade it for anything._

 

  
Zach.

I move in autopilot, hanging up my phone and jogging towards Jonah.  
He’s speaking to someone, not in the band or in our crew, but at the moment, I can’t make myself care.  
“Hey, Jonah,” I throw my arm around his shoulders, “You’re going to be a daddy.”  
I don’t know why that’s the way I choose to break this news, but it makes him laugh.  
“Yes, Zach,” He tries to shrug me off, “I know.”  
“No,” I don’t let go, pulling him towards the parking lot, “I mean, you’re going to be a daddy tonight.”  
“What?” Jonah stops, digging his heels in, and I trip trying to drag him with me.  
“I guess you turned your phone off?” I explain, “But, ah,” I yank him forward again, “Rory’s decided today’s a cool day to be born.”  
“Zach,” He narrows his eyes at me, “What, exactly, is going on?”  
“Eli’s in the car on the way to the hospital with a half-hysterical Harper, and I think she might beat me with her cleats if I don’t get you there in time,” I pause, then clarify, “Harper, not Eli. Eli said they’re fine.”  
Jonah blinks, “They weren’t Braxton-Hicks, were they?”  
I squirm, debating trying to pick him up and carry him to the bus because we still aren’t leaving, “I don’t know what that means, but Eli said something about water breaking, and I really think we need to go,” This time when I yank him forward, he moves, “Should we take the bus? What about an Uber? Would that be fast enough? We could borrow a car? Could we fly? What if we called the airport and begged to get on the next flight?”  
“Zach,” Jonah says my name in exasperation which lets me know he’s said it more than once.  
“Yeah?” I wince.  
“Let’s start by retrieving my phone and the rest of the guys, then we can worry about how we’re going to get a car,” He grips the back of my neck, and I take in air, for what feels like the first time since I answered the phone.

 

In less than ten minutes, Jonah collects the band, his phone, and somebody’s car keys. He plants himself in the driver’s seat, and no one protests as he speeds out of the parking lot.  
He carefully navigates the car onto the highway, and I stare at him open mouthed, still kind of in shock, “You’re gonna be great at this.”  
“Hm?” Jonah doesn’t look away from the road.  
“Being a dad,” I watch him, “You’re going be really good at it.”  
He glances at me, the corner of his mouth turned up, “Maybe remind me of that when they’re sixteen and hate me?” He grins, then accelerates more.

 

Jonah and I abandon the car, along with Corbyn, Jack, and Daniel in the no parking zone in front of the hospital, making it inside the lobby before they can climb out of the back seat. My phone is vibrating with messages from Harper continuously while we’re being identified, an overly relaxed receptionist putting a sticker with my picture on it on my shirt, and outfitting Jonah in some kind medical bracelet, before finally telling us which floor Eli’s on.  
We take the stairs, race through the hallway, past a waiting room where I think the rest of the band’s girlfriends and possibly Jayden are but don’t quit running to find out, and nearly crash halting outside her door.  
Jonah throws his arm out to catch me, keeping me from falling inside, and for a minute, we both just take it in.  
Harper is standing by the window, glaring at her phone as if through sheer willpower alone she could get us here faster. Jonah’s mom is watching the output of some kind of monitor, speaking quietly with a doctor and nurse. Their conversation is lost under the symphony of beeping and persistent swoshing sound I recognize as Rory’s heartbeat. Jonah’s recorded every scan, and just hearing that familiar steady rhythm makes my knees weak in relief.  
Milo’s voice cuts through the noise, “Look at me.”  
He hasn’t noticed me or Jonah yet, but he’s standing around Eli, her belly between them, her back to the wall with his arms caging her in. They’re closer to door than the rest of the room, and it sinks in as he says it again, “Look at me,” that Milo’s posture is protective. He’s almost hiding her from them.  
“Look at me,” He commands, pressing his forehead against hers and she finally does.  
“I know it hurts, and I know you’re scared,” Milo continues, even when her hands wrap around his biceps, holding on so tight his tan skin goes white, “Yo también tengo miedo. Eres mi alma, remember?” He chokes out, “But I know you, and you’re braver and more capable than anyone. Why do you think Jonah’s so in love with you, huh?” Milo dimples at her, “You can do this. I know you can, but, se acabó el tiempo,” Eli’s face screws up, in obvious pain, and Jonah goes tense beside me. Milo keeps going, “So, when the nice doctor lady says to, you’re going to push, okay?”  
Eli nods, but Milo repeats himself, “Okay?”  
“Okay,” Her voice is hardly more than an exhale.  
Jonah stands up straighter, then steps inside, “Hey, Gorgeous.”  
“Oh, thank fuck,” Harper spins towards us, dropping her phone, and Milo’s shoulders loosen as he moves back.  
“I heard we’re having a baby,” Jonah tugs on Eli’s braid, and for a moment, she lights up.  
“Hi, Jo,” She smiles at him, then contorts in agony, her back arching and the smallest whimper of pain escaping her mouth.  
Jonah has his arms around her in an instant.  
“Alright,” The doctor takes control of the room, clasping her hands together, “Dad’s here now, so everyone that isn’t staying for the fun part needs to get out.”  
“Fun part?” I arch one eyebrow, and Harper punches my shoulder before hauling me away. I’ll happily take the bruise in exchange for Eli’s amused huff.

 

We try to distract each other, exchanging stories in the waiting room of how we got here, listening to Jayden’s recounting of Milo’s frantic insistence he, Jayden, and Brooke needed to get on the plane this morning before they had any idea what was going to happen, and how Christina stormed UCLA to get Angi out of one of her film school classes. Harper giggles at my stunned stupidity during our phone call, and at Jonah’s innate ability to be the steady one, even if none of us are certain he didn’t steal that car.  
Eventually, after what feels like centuries but the clock tells me was only a few hours, a nurse appears, “Kelley family?”  
Milo bolts up out of his seat, “Me,” and when Jayden coughs, and he corrects himself, “Er, us?”  
She gives him a flat look, and surveys the rest of us, “They warned me there was a lot of you. You can come back now, but you’re going to have to make it brief. They need their rest.”  
We’re all out of our seats and trailing behind her before she can finish her lecture.  
The nurse leaves us outside their closed door, and Milo hesitates.  
Jayden doesn’t though, reaching around his husband to push it open.  
We spill inside the room together, jostling each other for space, then I freeze, staring at Jonah.  
He’s holding what is possibly the tiniest bundle of blankets on the planet, standing beside the bed. Eli’s tucked into the sheets, beautiful as always, looking exhausted and completely in love. Jonah’s mom is sitting in a chair behind them, watching them beaming.

Jonah, despite ten people crowding into what was already a crowded room, doesn’t seem to notice any of us.  
He looks more at home in his skin and content with the world holding that itty-bitty swaddle than he ever has before.  
We have multi-platinum records, and he’s never looked this fulfilled.

Someone inhales beside me, and Eli smiles at us, addressing Milo, “Come meet my daughter, ‘Lo.”  
“She’s okay?” Milo is close to tears.  
“Just as as pretty and skinny, and long and strong as her mother,” Jonah’s mom confirms.  
Jonah shifts the baby in his arms, and she almost fits in his hand, “Perfect.”  
She starts to fuss, this barely audible wail, but settles the second Jonah places her in Eli's arms. Eli unwraps her, exposing her little feet, minuscule bunny covered onesie, and the soft dusting of pale brown hair on her head. Milo moves to their side, whispering, “She’s so beautiful, Elijah.”  
“Mila,” Jonah answers the unspoken question we've been begging him to for months, still staring at their baby, “Mila Marais Frantzich.”  
“You…” Milo meets Eli’s eyes.  
“No tendría nada sin ti,” She runs her finger gently down Mila’s teeny nose, “Jonah me dio esta vida, pero solo después de que me mostraras que podría tenerla,” Then she smiles at him, “A boy would’ve been Timothy though.”  
Milo chuckles through his tears, and Jayden laughs still in the doorway.

We spend the next hour taking turns holding Mila, counting her tiny toes, admiring her little fingernails, and discussing who she looks the most like. There’s a lot of crying, and hugging, and love, from pretty much everyone.  
I’m not much of a baby person, not usually, but I’m wrapped around Mila’s finger in an instant. I didn’t know you could love someone so small so immediately, but it’s obvious with her, we all do.

 

Daniel catches me, after we’ve been told our time is up by the sternest nurse on the ward, trying to cajole Harper into leaving, and folding under her pout when she begs for “Five more minutes?”

Daniel looks me in the eye when he and Angi move towards the door, “You’ve got Harper?”  
It’s a loaded question, from him. He isn’t just asking if I’m driving her home, he’s looking for confirmation of more than that.  
“I’ve got her,” I agree, something I never have with anyone else.  
Daniel nods once, in acceptance and approval, and then they’re gone, leaving Harper and I alone with Jonah, Eli, and Mila.

“Come on, Hop,” I reach for her hand, reluctantly prying her away from our niece, “The scary nurse is going to yell at us if we’re still here when she comes back.”  
“But we have to share with the Kelleys’ tomorrow,” Harper grumbles, “And Colton.”  
They aren’t the only ones. Eli’s family, the rest of Jonah’s, the Jameses’, both of Harper’s brothers, and most of the extended band parents will be here tomorrow too, “And my mom.”  
The mention of my mother gets Harper’s attention, and I use that to leverage her off her perch on the end of Eli’s bed, “You don't get to be nervous, you’re going to get on so well, I have to be,” I make a face, but Harper still narrows her eyes at me.  
She turns to blow a kiss at Mila, whispering to Eli, “You did so good.”  
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Eli catches Harper’s wrist, “Thank you.”  
“You could’ve done it alone,” Harper shakes her head slightly, but grins, as Jonah steers us out of the room.  
I jostle his shoulder, “You can call me, if you need anything,” I look at him, “Literally, anything.”  
“I know,” Jonah hugs me, hard, then wraps his arms around Harper, whispering a second, “Thank you,” that makes her eyes shiny when he steps back.

 

I feel like I’ve experienced most of the spectrum of human emotion today, from absolute terror to unexplainable joy, but nothing has felt as right as Harper’s hand in mine, sharing her giddy expression even through her yawns.

It feels good, to take her home.  
Today's been a big day, but I've known for weeks, I want to do this always.

 

 

 


	15. Harper

Zach.

Harper is quiet in the car, nodding off, then forcing herself awake again and again as I navigate through downtown.  
I think she’s asleep folded down in her seat, until she says my name looking in the mirror at the road I didn’t take, “Zach, you missed the turn.”  
“I need to pick something up,” I move my hand from the gearshift to her knee.  
“I’m so tired,” She whines, but that's not a real protest, so I don't turn around.  
Harper has done a lot today, scored twice in a playoff game, drove Eli to the hospital, and met Mila. I start second guessing myself, as we’re pulling in the driveway, but when she realizes where we are, there’s no going back.  
“Zach?” She takes her feet off the dashboard.  
“Come inside with me?” I turn the engine off.  
She tumbles out of the car after me, “Zach, what are we doing here?”  
I wait for her to catch up, then take a key out of my pocket to open the door.  
Harper looks around at the brand new floors and empty space, because I know nothing about furniture shopping, and I prop myself up against the wall in the kitchen.  
She bites her lip, looking at the backyard and the view of the the lights downtown with hearts in her eyes, “Why do you have a key to my house?”  
“Well,” I smirk at her possessive, “Because it’s technically mine.”  
“You bought my house?” Harper drifts closer to me.  
“Yeah, Kitten,” I nod, “I bought your house,” I step into her space, “But I was sort of hoping it could be ours.”  
She blinks, “Zach.”  
“I know you’ve got your dorm, and Eli will always have room for you, but I really want you here,” I admit.  
“You don’t know that,” Harper steps back, bumping into the granite island, “Zach, we’ve been together for, like, a minute.”  
“I was a little bit in love with you before we ever stepped off that plane, six months ago,” I give her space, “I knew then, how tough, and clever, and kind, and hot, you are. That’s not really why I want you to move in with me,” I pull the second key from my pocket, the soccer ball keychain hanging from my fingers as I hold my hand out to her, “I want you here, because every day I don’t start listening to you crunch on granola is a bad day. The nights I don’t have to turn the bathroom light off are all terrible, and horror movies are so boring if your hair isn’t dripping on me and I can’t hear your little gasp right before the scary parts,”  
“I don’t do that,” She protests.  
“You do, and it’s adorable,” I shake my head, “Harper,” I say her name, because I want her to listen to me.

It started as a joke, calling her everything other than her name. Then it became a convoluted way to keep some kind distance between us. I fell into the trap of believing naming something gave it power, and she already had so much sway over me, I didn’t want to give her more.  
The stupidity of that thought occurs to me in this moment, because, obviously, she's always been this powerful.

“Harper, I love you,” Her mouth falls open, but I keep going, “And I know sometimes I’m disappointing. I can barely take care of myself, and rarely think before I act, but after making a million wrong turns, bad decisions and huge messes, I know when something feels right, and,” I study the ocean in her eyes, then tell her the truth, “You are the first thing that’s ever felt like it was meant to be.”

 

_Harper._

_“Harper,” Zach says my name again. My real name, not one of his endless stream of nicknames, and it makes me feel almost dizzy, “I want you to have a key, because I want this to be your home. It doesn’t have to be today, or next month, or next summer, or even next year, but I want you to take it, because I need you to know I mean it,” He takes my hand, and places the key in my palm, then folds my fingers over it, his hand holding mine closed, “I love you.”_  
_I take a deep breath, “You’re going to have to quit buying me things.”_  
_“Okay,” He agrees, but I swear he crosses his fingers behind his back first._  
_“And you’ve got to learn some better timing,” I pull the key towards me, turning it over in my hand, “because I feel like I haven’t slept in years, and there might be amniotic fluid on my shoes, and you just told me I have to meet your mom tomorrow.”_  
_“I can work on that,” Zach grins._  
_“You won’t always be my top priority. Soccer will be first, most of the time, and I’m a disaster when I lose,” I try for honesty._  
_“I spend six months a year living out of a carry-on, and I think we just covered I’m always a disaster,” His eyes glint playfully, “Like it or not, Harper, I’m on your team, in your corner, and cheering you on in every situation. You are every dream I’ve ever had, and I will do everything I can to help you accomplish yours. Nothing you can say to me is going to change my mind.”_

_I never stood a chance against him._

_Colt warned me about drugs in the street, but he forgot about the ones with brown eyes and a heartbeat._  
_It’s way too late now, I’m absolutely hooked._  
_It doesn’t matter that Zach makes my life more complicated, it only matters that without him it would all be so empty._

 

 _“You’re going to have to stop talking down to yourself,” I pocket the key and step into his space, “I’d fight with anyone else saying those things about someone I love.”_  
_He tips his head down, “You love me?”_  
_“Of course I do,” I reach for his hair._  
_“Say it,” Zach smirks, his hands holding me just below my ribcage._  
_“I love you.”_  
_“Again,” He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist._  
_“I love you.”_  
_“Again,” He commands._  
_“I love you,” I can’t stop my smile._  
_“I love you too,” Zach says against my mouth, then he kisses me, and it feels better than winning every gold metal in the world._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For S.   
> for explaining all the sports twenty gazillion times,   
> and sighing audibly only once  
> (ballet never prepared me for this)
> 
> And for N.   
> for letting me steal your best lines  
> Our team’s my favorite.
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments are always so appreciated.   
> As always, thank you so much for spending your time here. It means the world to me.


End file.
